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melancholymetropolis · 8 months

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Big Ole Freak

plot: A curious archivist accidentally summons Ryomen Sukuna

pairings: Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

genre(s): MONSTERFUCKING; Shameless Smut

warnings: unedited (mostly). canon divergence. d/s role. FEMDOM Y/N. bratty sub Sukuna. breathplay. choking (m receiving). reader is shy at first but kinda bossy towards the end. fight for dominance lowkey. PIV SEX. sukuna had four arms and used all of them. TEASING. fingering. creaming. possessive sukuna. feral reader. lowkey pining. talks out love. overthinker reader. pet names (kuna, pet, baby, monster, etc.) dirty talk. oral (f receiving). praising. multiple positions. rounds and rounds and rounds.

w.c: 8.2k

a/n: if I told you that almost 5.5k is smut would you believe me?

“Testing,�� I said into the tape recorder. “One, two.”

I played the audio back and grimaced at the sound of my own voice. After years of extensive research, one could only hope to move past that insecurity. I deleted the recording and placed the device on the table. I dimmed the lights within the small community library and opted to turn on a few electric candles. I adjusted my wire-rim glasses and pulled my mini-twists into a ponytail. Once satisfied with the set-up, I slipped on white cotton gloves and pressed play on the recording.

“Good Evening, listener,” I said politely into the device. “My name is Dr. Y/N L/N, senior archivist at Jujutsu Library here in Japan. I hope you are doing well.”

I proceeded to place a heavy box on the table and continued to talk. “I am using this recording to document the initial opening of the Ryomen Grimoire. It was reported to be a book of spells for a powerful emperor named Sukuna, all the way back in the Nara period of Japan. For reference, that would be somewhere in the 1100s.” I cleared my throat the remark and placed two hands on the lid. “There is not that much history on the empire, as his life is riddled with mystery. There are far too many conflicting reports about who Sukuna was and how he came to be one of the most ruthless rulers of all time. Some say it was due to him being orphaned at a very young age. Others say it was his father's abuse of him. Then, there is a tale of lost love. Apparently, a woman he was dating had cheated on him and fallen pregnant with another man’s baby.”

I cleared my throat again and started to rub it gently. There was a subtle tightness around the area that caused irritation to my whole being. But, that hadn’t been the only thing. I could feel chills slowly drifting down my spine and goosebumps began to rise on my arms. The sensation was odd on many accounts. The first being that I was in the basement of the library. It was notoriously known for being without an air conditioner. I had spent many days, drenched in sweat, archiving old materials. There had been a crappy fan stationed here, but its winds were too powerful for such delicate papers. The second odd thing about the room was that I hadn’t been particularly cold, nor scared to obtain said goosebumps. I was not trembling with fear or on the brink of freezing to death. My body was utterly calm and my mind totally clear. My temperature was neutral; I wasn’t hot or cold. Reading grimoires and looking at so-called “haunted” materials was a typical Sunday for me. It wasn’t something that brought me joy or excitement, it was just my job.

“As you possibly tell by my brief description, the stories conflict quite a bit,” I continued on. “One cannot be an orphan with a father or vice versa. In all truth, researchers are all confused as to who he truly is. They are trying to figure out what kind of man he was and how he impacted Japan’s history. This is why the discovery of his grimoire was massive and brought in a lot of attention. Scientists from all over the world are flying in to witness its contents. But, lucky for us, Jujustu Library is the first one to get their hands on it.”

I undid the metal latches on the side and began to raise the lid. A retched stench tore through the air upon opening it. My body shivered with disgust and I felt myself gag a little.

“Note to self,” I said to the recorder. “Please restock facemasks as soon as possible.”

I’d simply cut that part out later.

I tucked my nose in my shirt and inhaled deeply. “I will now take the grimoire out of the box.”

The book was approximately twelve inches wide and fourteen inches thick. When I had dropped my hands in the box and grasped the edges, I could tell by the weight that it was about eight hundred pages long. It was a remarkable five to six inches thick, with a leather buckle holding it shut. I placed the heavy object on the table with a gentle “thud and proceeded to unlatch the leather binding. Small flecks of dust seeped from the pages as the pressure was released from the latch. They painted the white table a subtle rusty brown color.

“It seems to me that the book has been stored in some kind of volcanic environment,” I observed, adjusting my glasses. “The dust particles have a reddish tint to them. This insinuates that the box must've been buried in iron-rich soil. This kind of dirt can be found near recently erupted volcanoes. Magma has high levels of magnetite phenocrysts, which hardens over time and creates magnetite iron.” I looked closely at the lid of the crate and hummed. “This theory is justified by the imperfections on the outside of the crate. There a subtle singe marks on the lib of the box and on the left side. This is interesting, to say the least.” I cleared my throat. “I will now peel back the cover of the book.”

True to my word, I took the cover of the grimoire in my hands gently and peeled it back to reveal the cover page.

“There is a scripture written on the first page,” I said, bringing my face closer to the brown pages. “It’s quite, faded, but I will do my best to read it aloud.”

As definite as the sun

And consistent as the moon

The power of Ryomen Sukuna will possess us all.

The King of Curses is a God to Many

Ruler of all things dark and cruel

Father to the monster of the below.

He feasts on the innocent

Lusts for the wicked

And craves all things violent.

“The last part is a little hard to read. There seems to be a substance covering the last stanza,” I mumbled, a little frustrated at the notion. I sighed deeply and adjusted my position at the table. I walked over to the far edge and dug into my tool bag. I pulled out a magnifying glass and a flashlight. I brought the touch a safe distance away from the book and clicked it on. With the magnifying glass directly behind it, I was able to decipher the words rather quickly.

With the moon at a crescent

And a lady nearby

Ryomen will come alive

She will call out to him

Bring him back to the land of living

And he will conquer it all once again

Suddenly, the light above the table began to flicker and buzz. The moment I raised my head to look at it, the light clicked off. The room was shrouded in darkness, aside from the little flashlight in my hand. I used the little beam to direct myself to the room’s exit. I gripped the handle of the door and gave it a fierce turn, but it wouldn’t budge. It was stuck. With all my strength, I pulled and pushed at the heavy metal door. I tried my best to remain calm. I knew better than to let panic consume my body and make me behave irrationally. This wasn’t the first time creepy things happened when I conducted research on a haunted object. There were instances where the object flew across the room whenever I came near it. Other times, random scratches appeared on my body. I have had my fair share of weird things happening to me in the presence of cursed objects. But, locking me in the room with it was a new one. The entity attached to the artifact would much rather have me far away from it, not in the same vicinity as me.

A warm gust of wind brushed against my back, making my body tense. I could hear the familiar crackle of fire in the distance as a purple-ish light filled the room. I turned my body slowly toward the table. My eyes widened at the sight. A flock of magenta flames had covered the surface of the black table, while black smoke filled the space around it. Within the fire, a deep, menacing laugh appeared. It filled the room instantly and brought shivers down my spine. My legs buckled and eventually gave out as I watched the scene unfold before me. My back slid against the metal door and my rear ended up on the floor. Gradually, a figure started to appear in the flames.

There was a head covered in unruly, spiky hair; which led to a thick neck and shoulders. A set of arms started to materialize, followed by another.

“Dear God. . .” The realization of what was happening had sank in.

That was Ryomen Sukuna.

I had summoned Ryomen Sukuna without meaning to.

I was utterly fucked.

The last part of the body to materialize was the eyes. There were four of them. The first set had sat normally on the face, while the other appeared beneath the. The bright red pupils seemed to glow in the heart of the flames and they seemed to be staring directly at me. A wide, sinister smile slowly formed on the King’s face, followed by a seductive lick across his pointed teeth. The laugh continued to echo throughout the room and it was the thing of nightmares. Something in my being had told me I would not survive the end of the night— that the King of Curses would slaughter me the moment he had the chance. He was not known for being kind, so I knew pleading would do nothing to help me. I would just have to accept my fate, which sucked in more ways than one.

I would never be able to do all the things I always wanted to do.

Like traveling across the world, or sleeping in the Palace of Versailles. I wanted nothing more than to feel like a Queen, even if it were just for a day.

I would never learn how to be a sculptor. I had imagined my work being in museums all over Europe and people calling me the next Divinici.

I would never tell Robert from Accounting how I felt about him. Granted the crush was still fresh and I had just realized my feelings a week ago. But, I was never one to act on those kinds of things. I knew that wanting love would lead to heartache and pain. My dating track record had been nothing short of a horror movie and I never truly had a partner like ever. Which was completely pathetic, since I was swiftly approaching thirty and never even. . .

The clearing of a throat snapped me from my head. I raised my vision back to the table and gulped slowly. The magenta flames had dissipated and the black smoke had cleared. Leaning on the edge was a man— a term I use very loosely. He was massive, probably standing somewhere between eight and nine feet tall. The thick, black-lined tattoos decorated his pale skin. They made him look even scarier. He was shirtless, and his broad chest had a dull sheen to it. He wore a pair of purple, wide-legged pants and traditional Japanese sandals. Even with their loose design, I can almost spot his muscular legs beneath them. Along with a semi-noticeable bulge in the crotch area.

A fierce blush flared up on my face and I quickly looked away.

“So that is why you summoned me?” He teased, crossing both sets of arms across his chest. “The little lamb wanted to get fucked by a real man?”

The voice was deep and unnatural. It sent shivers through my body. The tingles weren’t from fear, however. They were from something else. Something a little more carnal than that.

I slowly raised my body from the floor and pressed my back to the metal door once more. “Well, if we are being quite honest,” I said, clearing my throat. “You are not a man and haven’t been one for a long time. A very long time.”

“Oh?” He smirked, leaning forward just a little bit. “So, you summoned me to get fucked by a monster? Is that it?”

“That’s not it, at all,” I interjected, calmly. “It was not my intention to summon you at all. I was simply submitting your grimoire to our archives. I must have done it by accident, somehow.”

He hummed, unamused.

Sukuna’s four eyes were trained on me. He took in my long passion twists and how they were pulled back into a high ponytail. They traveled down my face, taking in my cocoa skin and plump lips. He held his gaze on my mouth for what seemed like an entirety before moving down to my neck and ample bosoms. He sped right past those and my midsection, before zeroing in on my legs. I had been wearing a skirt that fell just above my knees, so the chubby limbs had been on display. The four pupils seemed to be glued to the pale panty-hose covering the thick thighs beneath them. They seemed to be calculating something. Maybe he was determining just how flexible I was or pondering how a woman could be that tall.

Whatever he was thinking about had swiftly left his mind the moment I cleared my throat.

The eyes snapped back up to me and a wicked grin formed on his face.

“There’s something. . . different about you,” he said, suddenly. “Something. . . off.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, adjusting my glasses.

“Well, if we’re being honest,” he mocked, completely mimicking my statement for moments before. “It is not easy to summon anything, especially a demon. Even a lower-ranking demon would require some kind of preparation before his expected arrival.” The hulking monster took a small step toward me, the smile growing wider. “And as you know, little researcher, I am not an easy demon to summon. It takes a really strong mage to summon me at all, let alone by accident.”

In the blink of an eye, he was right in front of me. His face was inches away from mine and his upper arms rested above my head. One of the hands from the lower arms had taken hold of my chin softly and tilted it upward. It forced me to look him in the eye. The smile on his face was devilish, but not at all sinister. Sukuna didn’t necessarily want to scare me it seemed. His other intention? I had no fucking idea.

“I cannot smell fear on you, little human,” he growled. “Not one ounce. But do you know what I do smell?”

He waited.

He wanted me to respond to his question.

“What?”

“Curiosity.” He let the word roll from his tongue like it was something precious.

“Well, of course,” I scoffed. “I am an archivist. It is my job to be curious.”

“No no no,” the monster shook his head. “That’s not it.” He brought his face closer until our noses were an inch apart. “You are curious about what I can do for you.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, wiggling my chin from his grasp.

Sukuna moved his back and dropped his smile to a smirk. His upper arms were still above my head, while his lower ones were caging my body. “I can smell you, sweetheart.”

“What?” My eyes widened. “Smell what?”

“Your arousal,” he answered. “And it smells so, very sweet.”

My bottom lip fell between my teeth as felt the blush slowly rise up my cheeks.

His chuckle was deep and raw— and it made my panties even wetter than before. His eyes scanned over my body once again, revisiting the old territory. By the twitching bulge in his pants, I could tell the feeling was mutual. I could feel the heat radiating between our bodies and we haven’t necessarily touched yet. Mine was screaming and begging for my mind to take the opportunity. Finding Sukuna’s grimoire had taken up almost all of my spare time; making it even harder to seek fulfillment in other avenues. I didn’t know when was the last time I entangled my limbs with someone else’s. The temptation was real and strong. I almost didn’t know what to do.

“Hand me the voice recorder,” I sighed with a stern look on my face. “It’s the little gray device near the box.”

With the snap of his fingers, the recording was nestled in my right hand. The King of Curses didn’t move one inch. I brought my eyes back up to his face and took in his devious smirk. It was so knowing and seemed unsurprised of my choice. He almost expected it and I hated that.

I pressed the “stop” button on the device and tossed it aside. I made sure to never break eye contact with the eight-foot monster as my hands lowered to my shirt. My fingers found the buttons and slowly started to undo each one. The King of Curses swiftly lost our little staring contest and stared directly at my chest. My cleavage grew one inch at a time and it seemed he grew harder by the second. Once I was on the last button, Sukuna brought his hands up to touch my breasts, but I immediately slapped them away.

He laughed at the notion. “Oooh, feisty. I love that in a woman.”

“Do you?” I asked with a smile.

“They’re always the best ones to break,” he winked.

I gave him an unamused look. “On your knees.”

A look of genuine shock passed on his face. “Excuse me.”

“Get on your knees,” I enunciated each syllable in the sentence and kept that bored look on my face.

“I think you got it mistaken, sweetheart,” he quipped, bringing his face closer to mine. That time our noses actually touched. “I am the one in charge here.”

A dangerous smirk slowly inched up to my lips and situated itself there. “Tell me, Mr. King of Curses, did you summon yourself or was I the one to do it?”

“You were, but—”

“And according to my research,” I interjected, running a finger along his solid abs. “The summoner is in full control of the demon if there is no bargain made between the two. Meaning, I can keep you here as long as I want and do whatever the fuck I want until I present you with some kind of deal. In other words.” I allowed my hands to slide lower against his abdomen until they brushed against the protruding tent in his leather pants. “I have you by the balls and I am the one in charge.”

There was an expression in his eye that I couldn’t exactly place. It wasn’t anger or frustration. It wavered the line of infatuation and intrigue. Just like me, the nine-hundred-year-old emperor was curious. I don’t think people ever challenged him before, let alone women. It was easy to be afraid of the eight-foot-tall beast. He had four arms and two sets of eyes. All his teeth came down to a point and looked incredibly sharp. He had thick, lined tattoos on every part of his body, including his face. His eyes were an electric red and seemed to bore into one’s soul the longer they looked at you. There were muscles littered all over that massive body and he could move faster than sound itself. Sukuna Ryomen was an obvious apex predator to me and I was nothing but a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.

He could have simply rejected my request and placed me on my knees instead. He had all the power to do it.

Yet, he didn’t.

The King of Curses sunk to his knees slowly, keeping eye contact as he did so. He placed his hands on his lap and sat back on his heels. The demon looked up at me with wonder and a little anticipation. He had no idea what I was going to do next.

I let my open dress shirt slip from my arms and fall into a puddle at my feet. The only thing covering my top half was a simple cotton bra. It was pink and thin. When I looked down, I could see my perfectly pebbled nipples through the fabric.

Sukuna could not stop staring at them either.

Slowly, I lifted my left heel from the ground and took my leather pump into my grasp. I slipped the shoe off and tossed it aside. It hit the marble floor with a delayed “thud”. I repeated the action with the other one and looked down at the red-eyed demon. His eyes were still on my chest. I pressed my back against the metal door once more and lifted my stocking-covered foot to his lap. I rubbed my toes along the thick thighs and inched closer to the leather tent situated between them. Gently, I ran my foot against the erect member. My toes wiggled up the thick shaft, attempting to feel it through the thick fabric. I pressed the ball of my foot atop the member and felt Sukuna shiver beneath me.

��Ooh,” I taunted with a smirk. “So you like that?”

“Yes,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Does it feel good, baby ‘kuna?” I asked, rubbing the ball of my foot against the shaft.

“. . . Yes.”

“Bet you wish I would just unbutton your pants and use my hands, huh?”

The demon groaned and briefly closed his eyes. Sukuna opened his mouth to say something but immediately stopped. He tilted his head to the ceiling and murmured a few words in a language I didn’t recognize. While he was distracted, I removed my foot from his crotch; earning a growl from him. I dropped my hands to my thighs and slowly lifted up my skirt until it was above my rear. I pressed my thumbs in the waistband of both my pantyhose and my underwear and shoved them down. They slid down my smooth legs with ease and ended up at my ankles a moment later. Sukuna’s eyes were back on me. The curly mound was in his eye line and I could see his nostril flare a few times.

It was taking everything in him not to dive right in.

“Come here, pet,” I cooed, widening my legs for him.

The massive demon closed the distance between our two bodies in a heartbeat. Yet, his hands remained on his lap and his gaze was on my face. He was waiting for instruction. I almost giggled at the notion. A famed warlord and emperor was waiting for a mere human to tell him what to do. The situation was ironic in every sense of the word. But, it made my heart swell with pride. I had the deadly man, both alive and dead, on his knees before me. Sukuna was practically begging with his eyes to kiss my cunt. He was doing all he could to be a good little poppet.

“Have a reward for being such an ob—”

My leg was hoisted on his shoulder and the other was hooked on his elevated arm. Both of my feet were off the ground. My thighs were wide apart and my cunt was exposed to the demon’s hot breath. The lower lips were slick and sensitive— which made the sensation even more pleasurable. His heavy, wet tongue slid against the tingling vulva and made my whole body shiver. A silent curse fell from my lips and I took a tight hold of his pink hair. The demon repeated the action several times, before shoving his face between my thighs. His hot mouth latched onto the weeping cunt and began to suck. The air in my lungs had grown thick and it was suddenly hard to take a full breath. In addition to the suction, his plush tongue was lapping against my clit.

“Oooh. . . fuck. . . pet,” I hissed, rolling my hips against his face. “You are so good with that filthy mouth of yours. Keep going like this and I’m gonna cream all over that pretty face.”

Sukuna growled at the statement and pressed his claws into my thighs. The action was light but still heavy. He didn’t want to draw blood, but he still wanted to hold me very tightly.

I lifted one of the massive palms placed on my stomach and lifted it to my face. I took in the thick fingers and the veins along the back of it. There were callouses on the fingers and a few on the inside. His claws were sharp enough to slit a throat, which explains his gentleness with them. I brought the bruised knuckles and gave them a tender kiss. I repeated the action on each finger until I was met with the claws once again. The longer I looked at his fingers, the more I wanted them in my mouth. I lowered my tongue from between my lips and ran the tip of it against the underside of the claws. The demon groaned in response and gripped my thighs tighter. I took long strides against the calloused digits and made sure to keep constant eye contact.

“Can you lose the claws or not?” I asked, breathless.

I could feel my peak gently rising over the horizon. There was a warm sensation slowly growing in my belly and my legs started to buckle. My hips were vibrating against his suckling maw and Sukuna had no intention of stopping any time soon.

Without warning, the claws on all four of his hands started to shrink back into his nail bed. Once they were close enough to the fingertip, the point widened and formed a standard fingernail. It was still black, of course. I smiled wickedly at the fingers and started to lick them all over again. Slowly, I started adding suction to the licks. I moved my lips to each digit, starting at the pinky, until I was left with the middle and an index finger. I bit my bottom lips lightly in anticipation. I was internally scolding myself for being excited over a silly thing.

It was just a hand. It was nothing more. Sure, his palm was almost the size of my face and his fingers were twice the length of mine. It was a standard working man’s hand. The rational part of my brain couldn’t see why a girl would be so infatuated with something so mundane and ordinary. However, the irrational part of my brain couldn’t help but picture them within me. The fingers were so long and inviting— and not to mention pretty thick. Two of them were the width of a standard cock and would fill me decently. But a third would stretch me deliciously. It would do a wonderful job preparing for the monster between his legs.

“Add a finger into my center,” I instructed, lowering his palm from my mouth. “And hook it upward.”

The obedient demon did exactly what he was told and pressed a finger to my center. The digit easily slipped into my awaiting hole. A low moan fell from my lips as he pressed against my G-spot. My hips rolled against his hand, greedy for more friction.

“Add another,” I said quickly.

The need to be stretched was becoming more prevalent and more prevalent. The second finger slipped into my canal and I shuddered. The subtle burn of the intrusion was glorious. The calloused fingertips pressing against the spongy area sent me deeper into bliss. His plump lips were still suckling my throbbing bud. The air in my lungs had gradually started to grow thicker and my body started to tingle. My mouth casually fell open as my eyes closed. My body was buzzing, vibrating from everything that I was experiencing. I had never felt this good with any partner I had. Many would complain about me even asking for oral. While others thought a clit lick was enough to make me cum. Yet, here was a Demon. The King of Curses on his knees feasting on my cunt like it was the last meal he’s ever had. A bloodthirsty heathen, at least according to history, was willing to treat me like a goddess and the mortal men thought me an object.

Of course, it did help that he was attractive— in the worst way possible.

My back arched against the metal door and my hips started to splutter against his face. All the air came rushing into my throat at once. My hand, shakily, gripped one of Sukuna’s spare ones. I interlocked our fingers and squeezed them tightly. I felt the demon tremble from beneath me. My messy cunt humped his pretty face as I rode out the climax. Silent curses fell from my lips like a goddamn sailor and my whimpers were barely audible. Stars exploded behind my eyes and electricity coursed through my veins.

When the wave had come to a staggering halt, I pushed Sukuna’s head away from my oozing pussy. His fingers slipped from my sensitive walls shortly after. The demon set my shaky legs down and sat me on his lap while he rested on his heels. He stared at me with all four of his eyes. A tired smile fell on my lips as I gazed down at him, happily.

“Kiss me.”

His lips were on mine before I could finish the last syllable.

The kiss was slow and sensual. It made my heart grow warm and needy. It felt like something you’d give to a forgotten lover. Like a last effort to remind them of what they had lost. It engulfed me in feelings I hadn’t felt in a long time. Tricked my brain into thinking he actually had feelings for a mere mortal.

I pulled away from the embrace to catch my breath. His kisses continued on. They inched down my jaw and along my neck. My shaky hand reached up to his pink locks and tugged lightly. My body rolled against his; desire was nipping at my heels once more. A pair of hands took hold of my waist and kneaded the soft flesh around it. I sighed, amused at the sensation. The skilled fingers moved lower and lower until they were palming my rear. He squeezed and pinched the soft flesh, growling while he completed the action. The hands moved lower and captured my thighs. He hoisted my body in the air once again. We were still attached at the lips. My hands were in his hair and my hips were rolling against his lap.

"I need you," the demon growled against my neck. "I need to be inside of you. Right now or I'm going to paint the floor with my seed."

He wasn't the type to beg, I knew that for sure. The little statement was meant to suggest that he was nearing his limit. More than ever, he was desperate to be situated between my walls.

A chuckle fell from my lips. "I barely touched you and you're already going to cum? You better not be a minute man, 'Kuna."

He scoffed and lifted his head from my neck. The intensity of his gaze made my insides rumble with delight and my head spin. “Don’t be mistaken, Historian. This little game of yours is truly something, but don’t let it go to your head. I could fuck you to the inch of your life and still wouldn’t reach my peak. You mortals are easy to break, all it takes is a few orgasms and some dirty words.”

I hummed, unamused by the comment. “Is that what you want? To break every woman you come in contact with?”

“Only the pretty ones,” he quipped, pinching my backside.

I didn’t even flinch.

“Well, let’s see how long you can keep up with me, Your Majesty,” I said with a sigh. “Give me your worst.”

“You shouldn’t have said that, little human,” he snickered. “You’re gonna regret it.”

With the flick of his wrist, the remnants of my clothes were in ribbons on the marble floor. Never once did my feet touch the ground in the process either. He cradled me with one pair of arms while using the other to do his dirty work. I was completely bare before Sukuna, and our bare chests were pressed together. His upper arms were caressing and massaging the soft flesh along my back, while his lower arms hooked around my legs and gripped the underside of my thighs. The King of Curses brought his lips to mine once again, before lowering my body onto his awaiting member. I didn’t even notice that he had taken off his pants and exposed the massive rod into the cool air of the room. Due to our position, it was hard to catch a glimpse of what it looked like, but I did feel it.

A gasp fell from my lips as my eyes fell closed. The stretch was delectable and stung marvelously. My oozing walls contracted against the throbbing member, almost begging him for inch after inch. The girth was unimaginable and it almost brought tears to my eyes. I dug my nails into the Curse’s forearms and tossed my head back. Silent moans kissed my lips as my walls continued to ooze all around him. Sukuna’s breath grew coarse and his grip on my thighs was tight. I could feel his eyes staring at me; taking in my lewd demeanor and the feeling of my tight pussy.

Before we both knew it, his entire length was situated in me and it seemed to shock him greatly.

“How fascinating,” he marveled, moving his upper hands to hips. “Never has a human taken all of me, without some resistance. This union is going to be better than I originally anticipated.”

“I’m ready when you are, ‘Kuna,” I said, gripping his forearms tightly.

The eight-foot-tall curse started off slowly raising my body off his shaft and lowering back down gently. It was a cautionary measure to just how much I could take and how fast. Little by little he increased his speed and pressure. More and more my body bounced with such rigor and persistence. I didn’t start to truly make noise until the monster was basically dropping me on his awaiting cock as if I weighed nothing at all. Shouts mixed with moans spilled from my lips as I looked up at his face. Sukuna wore a cocky smirk with pride. It felt as though he was proud of himself for obtaining such a reaction out of me. I dug my nails into his forearms and watched as his smirk faltered from the sensation.

Pain must’ve been the easiest way to his heart.

The heavy member was stretching out my poor womanhood in every direction. However, I could feel the plush head hitting a spot deep within my cunt, just beneath my cervix. The pleasurable sensation was making every nerve in my body sing. The longer his thrusts invaded my welcoming body, the closer I was being brought to orgasm. It wasn’t long before my thighs started to tremble from the insane movements of the monster. A thin sheet of sweat started to form on my body. I could feel my walls flutter rapidly against the massive cock and tension build in my lower abdomen.

“Gonna cum already?” He snickered. “I thought you said I was supposed to keep up with you?”

I lazy smile fell on my lips. “Your ignorance is showing, baby ‘Kuna.”

“Please do share, Miss Historian.”

Before I could reply to the statement, the King of Curse started to drop me even harder on his cock. The additional pressure on my a-spot had forced an electric shock through my body. My upper half jolted forward and my grip on his forearms tightened even more. I could see my knuckles begin to turn white from the hold I had on him. All the nerves in my body began to buzz and my abdomen started to ache. The climax was close enough for me to taste, but not close enough to devour. The need to cum had taken over every other thought in my mind. The worries about how dangerous the monster fucking me had slipped away. I no longer cared that he had been the most dangerous man in history, nor did I care about how completely insane the evening had been with him. I had never imagined being entangled with such a notorious curse and having him fucking me for the last hour with little kickback. I couldn’t believe how much I was enjoying having this monster at my beck and call. Nor could I believe that he sank to his knees and submitted to me.

It wasn’t something I had been expecting, but I sure as hell wanted more of it.

The orgasm struck my body like an arrow and threw me forward. Sukuna quickly repositioned his hands— wrapping two arms around my upper back and two around my waist. My thighs hooked around his hips and my arms were placed around his neck. My entire body was convulsed from the orgasm. I pressed my face fell against his smooth chest as I shivered against him. Curses and whimpers oozed from my lips as my cunt painted his dick with a thick creamy substance. He never stopped his thrusts. Sukuna kept the same, hard and quick pace as I became undone before him. The feeling was completely otherworldly and indescribable. I never wanted him to stop. I never wanted to be apart from him. I wanted our bodies to be joined together forever.

When the final wave of the orgasm left, an insatiable feeling had taken its place. An unrecognizable greed ate at my womb, begging the monster to fill it to the brim with his seed. The need wasn’t something I was ashamed of, but I wouldn’t dare share it with Sukuna. The King of Curses would let the statement go straight to his head.

I lifted my head from his chest and looked into his half-hooded eyes. He was studying me closely. Taking in my every reaction to see what my body craved the most. It made my heart flutter.

While his hips worked their magic, I leaned back into his arms and placed my hands on his shoulders. Slowly, I moved my left hand along his collarbone and placed it at the base of his neck. His eyes were focused on my face, a look of encouragement on his face. He wanted to be choked. His crimson eyes were practically begging me for it.

But, I needed to hear him say it.

I moved my hand back to his shoulder but never broke eye contact. A look of disappointment flashed upon his face before he quickly washed it away

“If you want something, pet,” I offered with a smirk. “You gotta use your big boy words.”

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he groaned, rolling his eyes.

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way,” I replied, the smirk widening to a smile. “Now, come on, baby ‘Kuna, tell your Mistress what you want her to do to you.”

A sigh fell from his lips and he briefly closed his eyes. “Will you. . . Can you. . . choke you me. . . please?”

I could feel my heart flutter once more from the broken sentence. I was almost tempted to ask him to repeat it, but I knew he wouldn’t no matter how much I begged. The shameful look he gave me when he opened his eyes made my insides stir. It added to the overall pleasure of the slow, deep thrusts he had been giving me. My chest was swelling with an emotion I didn’t fully recognize and I was almost scared to acknowledge it. There were remnants of love and longing in his gaze. I had seen glimpses of the emotions earlier, but I had tried to convince myself that I was going insane. Yet, the more I looked at him, the clearer his emotions seemed to me.

Slowly, I placed my hand on his neck and gave it a subtle squeeze.

His eyes fluttered closed and a low groan erupted from his abdomen. “Harder. . .” The request was just above a whisper, but it echoed through my mind loudly.

Like the good Mistress I was, I complied.

Realizing that Sukuna was far from human— and didn’t require air to survive— placed an evil idea in my mind. I mustered up all the strength in my right hand and squeezed his thick neck with everything in me. I watched my knuckles flicker from their usual color to a chalk-white as I did so. The massive monster shivered underneath me and his eyes fluttered shut. Deep, animalistic growls pierced the air around us. They were followed by the swift changing of his thrusts against my body. Instead of fucking me tenderly with a hint of aggression, Sukuna had switched to screwing me like he hated me. His hips slammed against my center with such rigor, I almost couldn’t think straight. My whole body bounced and jumped against his. My breath grew thick in my throat and my nerves seemed to sing. My thighs grew slicker and slicker by the second until I was sure my arousal was oozing all over his lap.

“Fuck!” Sukuna growled, beneath me. “Why do you feel so good around me, mortal?”

I didn’t even have the air to respond to him. My head was doing a dangerous dance and jumbling all the thoughts within it. Even in my sedated state, I maintained the pressure I had on his neck. I could feel his thick member jolt and twitch within me. The reaction seemed to surprise him as well. His body took off in a smooth vibration as growls erupted from his throat. The King of Curses was nearing his end, only after about 30 minutes of constant penetration. To a human, that length of stamina would’ve been impressive. He would have been categorized as a good amongst men. But for a monster? It was questionable. Sukuna was known to fight for days without breaking a sweat. He could obliterate armies and leave relatively unharmed. There had been stories of his whore-ish escapades as well. Tales on how he had to reserve almost ten women in a brothel to get his rocks off. The stories, also, continued to say how each woman had to be given a “rest day” after spending a night with him and would happily do it all over again.

His hips vibrated against my pelvis and I felt his grip tighten on my thighs. A string of curses dripped from his tongue and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“I’m gonna paint those pretty walls with my seed,” he growled, thrusting even faster into my cunt. “Mark my fucking territory so no other man can enter.”

The sensation in my belly was downright undeniable. The chilly approach to the climax had first taken over my toes. Numbness inched up the little nubs and to my calves. However, there was a change in temperature as it approached my thighs. I was no longer cold in that area, but insanely hot. There was heat that radiated from Sukuna and glittered over to me. My thighs felt as though they were burning and my stomach was on fire. Yet, it wasn’t painful. It was pleasurable. It gave me an added adrenaline boost. Instead of freezing like a fawn when the climax approached, I attacked like a bear. My nails dug into Sukuna’s neck and shoulder. I tossed my head back fiercely and felt the scrunchie holding my twists burst. Long strands cascaded over my naked, sweaty body.

“Harder,” I growled, my head tilted to the ceiling. “Come on, pet. Fuck me like you mean it.”

My back hit the table moments later. My thighs were still spread open and wide for the monster. He pressed his body against mine completely— the closest we have been since this whole ordeal— and started to rut into me. Filling me over and over again with his over-sensitive cock. The pants coming from his lips sounded criminal and downright wrong. It was strange to hear a monster almost out of breath, especially when to sex. The activity was so natural in comparison to what atrocities Sukuna was usually up to. It felt like the King was giving me all he had in that last round. Mustering up his last bit of stamina to satisfy his mistress.

That forbidden feeling was stirring in me once again. The one that felt dangerously similar to love. Even with my nearly fucked-out brain, I knew it was impossible to feel that way about someone I had just met a little while ago. It was even more irresponsible to feel that way about a literal King of Curses. A former menace to society in life and current pain in the ass in death. Just as much as Sukuna pleasured me, he annoyed the absolute shit out of me as well. His arrogant attitude and boastful demeanor almost made me hate him. Almost. It was his wavering obedience and the look I got when I choked him that changed my mind. I couldn’t hate him. At least not right now.

The orgasm was mind-numbing and appeared out of nowhere. It was the strongest of the three and seemed to have sent me into the atmosphere. My back arched against the table and my nails dug into his ribs. My eyes rolled back and my mouth fell open. Above me, I could feel Sukuna’s body freeze for a few seconds. His hips jolted and trembled fiercely as his cock spasmed within me. Hot cum spilled from his slit and oozed into my awaiting pussy. Broken breaths fell from his lips as he gathered my body into his arms once again. Sukuna wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly. A searing kiss was placed on my lips as he lazily thrust into my slick cunt. It felt as though he wanted to empty every last drop into me before pulling away.

Yet, even when he finished emptying his load into me, the King of Curses still held me in his arms. The kiss had long been broken, but his forehead was pressed against mine afterward. His eyes were closed and his breathing was soft. There was a peaceful look on his face. He didn’t seem to be the massive warlord, the King of Curses, or the cocky bastard that blew my back out— he was simply Sukuna and that was enough for me. My hands found refuge in his hair. I stroked the pink locks tenderly and hummed sweetly. That forbidden feeling hadn’t left just yet. Everything about that moment oozed intimacy and, dare I say it, love. As much as I wanted more of it— as much as I fucking craved it— I knew it was not meant to be. I knew I had to be satisfied with just this. My hands in his hair and his body against my own.

“You stole something from me,” Sukuna spoke, finally lifting his forehead from mine. He opened his crimson eyes and searched my face. I didn’t know what he was looking for.

I lowered my hand from his hair. “What did I steal?”

“My power,” he replied, wrapping his arms around me and pulling away. “You stole my power. Well, some of it at least.”

I sat up at the edge of the table and combed a twist behind my ear. “What are you talking about? How is that even possible?”

“It isn’t possible!” He snapped back with his back to me.

His heavy feet paced around the small archive room and there was a quizzical expression on his face. The monster had been completely deep in thought. He was working out every possible answer, theory, or hypothesis in his head as to what the hell was going on. Wondering how a mere mortal could conjure him with any preparation. Thinking about how she was able to make him subtle to her with little effort. Questioning how it was even possible that she could steal some of his power if she wasn’t a curse user. I knew what he was thinking because I too was thinking the exact same thing. The situation was bizarre for both parties and left us both stumped.

Until my eyes dropped to the discarded grimoire on the floor and something suddenly clicked.

“I didn’t steal your power,” I said, watching Sukuna stop in his tracks at the sound of my voice. “I contained it.”

Slowly, his head turned to me as the thought penetrated his mind as well. A slow, cocky smile was pulled onto his lips.

“You are my vessel,” he replied. “My anchor in the mortal world.”

“In other words, I am—”

“Destined to be mine. Forever.”

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a/n: what's good y'all? I know I am hella late to kinktober, but here's my submission. I wanted to do something a little different for you y'all. do you we like the longer stories? how do we feel about the prompts? be honest tell me how you feel about it. i love reading your comments.

also, I will post a new story before the end of October, so watch out for that.

thinking about an official taglist. how do we feel about that?

see you soon.

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welcometothejianghu · 5 months

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Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 少年歌行/The Blood of Youth

The Blood of Youth is a 2022 live-action adaptation of the tale of a deposed, disabled, and incredibly cunty prince who's on his way back to settle the score with his asshole father, and the rag-tag band of weirdos he accumulates along the way, including Spear Girl, Bad Monk, and Fire Puppy (pictured above).

I hope you like shounen anime, because this is the most shounen anime something is allowed to be without actually being based on something running weekly in Shounen Jump. What if Nirvana in Fire were also Naruto? It would be the Blood of Youth.

This show is an underrated gem of action-packed fun that not nearly enough people in English-speaking fandom have seen. In an attempt to correct that -- and ahead of an announced second season and prequel in progress -- I'm here with five reasons you should try it out.

1. Zero thoughts head empty

You do not have to pay an enormous amount of attention to this show to understand what's going on. The show itself does not always know what's going on. It got distracted by a shiny object over there, and now we're all gearing up to go punch the shiny object. We'll get back to the main plot when we're done with the punching.

It has a million billion plot threads going on at any given moment. Bad guys roll in from sects you've never heard of before, using superpowers with stupid names, only to get kicked into next week. There's approximately eleventy thousand characters -- so many, in fact, that I ran into problems several times while making this rec post, because there aren't readily available photos of everyone I want to talk about. Just look at the DramaWiki cast list. See how it goes on for like fifty screens? That's a little what the show feels like.

Except I'm not saying that like it's a bad thing, because the show knows it's doing this, and it acts accordingly. It telegraphs pretty well who's important and who isn't (and then it goes out of its way to color-code the latter, which is handy). What you're left with is absolutely a manga-style plot, complete with training arcs and semi-relevant sidequests, all working up to the final boss match.

It is an extremely self-aware show. On multiple occasions, something would happen, I would crack a joke about it, and then a beat later the show itself would make the exact same joke. I wouldn't call it an outright comedy, but it's still very funny, and on purpose. It has no illusions about being some kind of profound, meaningful epic. Mostly it's just here for a good time.

Yet this lightheartedness is what makes the powerful emotional parts really powerful by contrast. The show is not stupid; it's just goofing around most of the time. When it knuckles down, it can be devastating. And you know what? It does wind up being profound and meaningful about some stuff. How about that.

So yeah, if you're up for something that bops merrily right along and only occasionally rips your heart out, here you go!

2. Putting the poly in polycule

Bisexuals, rejoice! It's representin' time!

Here you go, I made a relationship chart of about 40% of the show's potential and canonical ships. I could have included so many more, but I only had so much space on the image, so I had to leave out some amazing ones, like the sword hedgehog who's real into this one cougar who could easily wipe the floor with him, or the rich nerd who thinks he has a chance with the aforementioned hot butch, or the fancy MILF who cheated on the emperor with a dreamy jianghu man and is trying not to cheat on him again with a different, slightly less dreamy jianghu man. See? There's just so much.

I would also say these are not exclusive ships. They are extremely inclusive ships. I am a fan of most (though admittedly not all) of the pairings listed here, and in fact of many of the three-and-more-somes indicated by these lines. They're such a cuddle puddle of shared intense feelings that it's hard to imagine anyone getting more than mildly jealous. Moreover, the potential for romance does not get in the way of hetero friendships; a boy and a girl who are each dating other people can go do adventures together, and (mostly) nobody gets weird about it, which is nice. If anything, what makes the overall dynamic so polycule-like is how equally friends and love interests get treated, meaning that it's not difficult to see a lot of crossover potential between those two categories.

If you're like me, you're hesitant about canonical romance, especially when it's straight, mostly because so many straight love stories wind up being tiresome, gross, and/or skull-poundingly boring. You will then be pleasantly surprised by how the canon pairings with members of the main cast are not like this at all!

Xiao Se and Sikong Qianluo are the main textual romance, and golly gee, they're just cute as heck. As the chart above indicates, I like interpreting them as two Kinsey 6's who have found their single exceptions, Mulder-and-Scully-style. Maybe one of the best things about their relationship is that it gets sidelined all the time for the plot. They're not so busy being in love that they forget to get shit done. Then they get a bit of downtime and get to go on a date, and you're like, aww, those sweet gay disaster babies are gonna do a little bit of heterosexuality. Just precious.

Tang Lian and Fairy Rui are right up there with the cuteness. She's a sex-positive dancing beauty who wants to ride that pretty boy like she stole him, and he's a shy sword boy so tightly bottled up that he'll explode if he sees a bare ankle. Avoiding spoilers, I will simply say that this is a pairing of two relatively soft people, until a bad thing happens to one of them and the other hardens up about it. If that's your jam, they're here for you.

Lei Wujie and Ye Ruoye are probably the most magical and the most practical of the bunch. They have a beautiful, super-dreamy, really horny sword-dance meet-cute, complete with its own pop song ... and then that's it, they're basically just together. She likes him, he likes her, good for them. In-laws aside, it's a refreshingly low-drama situation. Besides, I always love it when the hypercompetent woman gets the sweet, devoted himbo who'd do anything for her. Ruoye's had a hard life, and she deserves someone who can dick her down good at night and make her a nourishing breakfast the next morning.

And then there is, of course, The Ship:

Xiao Se and Wuxin are canonical, textual soulmates. The show treats their dynamic as more important than any other. It's so important, in fact, that the show has to sideline Wuxin for huge parts of the drama, lest everything get too damn gay. They each get a boyfriend catch on the other. They both do fairly reckless things when the other is in trouble. They are the secret hidden happy ending to the series. They share the kind of ride-or-die relationship built on mutually being the hugest bitches in any given room. Whether or not you think this is romance, it is extremely romantic, and the series agrees as much as it can, all things considered.

And if none of those flavors of love float your boat? Well, have you considered ... eunuchs?

3. She likes e4e

So I'm on record as being real into eunuch characters, right? Well, if you're with me on that, you are in for a treat here, because these are some absolutely buck-wild eunuchs.

There's five main ones, and I can't even begin to scratch the surface of what's going there. Like, really, I don't even think I understood all of what was happening with them. They're kind of the bad guys, but then they're kind of the good guys, but then some of them are the bad guys, but then they're just working for the bad guys, but then they screw over the bad guys, and ... it's just a lot, okay? It's a lot, and it's all happening with this bunch of catty bitches.

Also, you would not believe the difficult time I had finding any images for this section. I guess for some reason, fandom isn't way into a bunch of canonically dickless color-coordinated middle-aged men in weird hats? Whatever, man, they are missing out. If, however, you have the good sense to be into the intense and complicated (semi-romantic??) relationships among colleagues who also professionally just happen to be missing their external genitalia, buddy, strap in (and maybe strap on, depending).

Don't let me oversell how much these guys are in the show. They're not. They're vaguely important at points throughout, and they become incredibly important near the end, but they're hardly main characters. They're mostly back at the palace, doing their various schemes and looking absolutely fantastic.

So if they're such a minor part of the story, why do they get their own selling point? Well, I think their presence is a good example of two specific things about the show:

Specific thing the first: It's so queer -- not gay, but queer. Thinking back to my last selling point, you will notice how many of those straight pairings may look normie on the outside, but once you get down to it are not playing by cishet rules. (For instance, I've seen a lot of people read Tang Lian's resistance to sexual advances as asexuality, which, sure!) Likewise, there are lots of incredibly important, intimate relationships that don't conform to standard romantic pair dynamics. Add to that a lot of bodies with unusual characteristics and conditions, and you've got the makings of plenty of delightful non-normative love stories.

Specific thing the second: There are so many things going on with so many side characters that there's a kink here for everyone. Don't care for eunuchs? How about slinky villains with mind-control powers? Devoted servants who would do anything for their masters? Former bad guys who owe life-debts to the good guys who saved them? Bonded pairs traipsing around the jianghu together? Sons nursing legitimate grudges against the men who killed their fathers? Alcoholic widowers with incredibly slutty necklines? Mysterious cross-dressers with unconvincing moustaches? Vengeful brides? Martial siblings? Murderous royals? Guilt-ridden half-siblings? Boring star-crossed lovers? All these and more! It's a smorgasbord of rarepair fuel!

Also, I just love these toxic drama queens. It's like if RuPaul's Drag Race had the authority to have you executed.

4. The most intriguing outfits I've ever seen in anything (and yes, I'm including Winter Begonia)

Time for a fashion show!

The asymmetrical fits, the detailed embroidery on everything, the brilliant colors -- everybody just looks so good. And yet everything still looks ... eh, I don't know if "practical" is the word I want, but at least wearable. Nobody's dragging ten-foot trains of fabric behind them or wrapped in eighty floofy layers of gauze (except Rui, but she's special). Their outfits are strange and elaborate, but they don't defy physics.

What's truly stunning is how often they get new outfits. Xiao Se alone changes clothes about once every other episode, and more if he's getting a flashback. He is the fashion plate of the whole series, and every look he serves is pitch-perfect.

They're not outright color-coded, but the main characters do have certain colors associated with them -- which is extra-fun when you watch those colors bleeding into their friends' clothes as their relationships get stronger. I also think -- and I'm willing to be proven wrong on this point, but I think I'm right -- that they recycle some characters' outfits into parts of other characters' outfits. On more than one occasion, I'd swear that Lei Wujie shows up wearing the left half of something Xiao Se was wearing a few episodes back (tailored to fit him, of course, because that dumb ponytail boy is tall).

Where I think the costume design gets massive points, though, is that the costumes are themselves adaptations.

Before the live-action series, there was a 2018 3D animated donghua. I have never watched the latter, but apparently the drama is intensely faithful to the animated visuals, to the point where some fights are shot-for-shot remakes.

Of course, you can do a lot more with unreal clothing and bodies in animation -- and you can show a lot more skin, at least according to Chinese content laws. The live-action costumers chose to preserve about as many of the appearance beats from the donghua as they could manage, while still accepting the limitations of real-life bodies and materials. You can see some side-by-side comparisons here. The live-action outfits manage to be instantly recognizable without being slavishly devoted recreating to their inspirations.

So if you're sick and tired of dreary, ill-lit shows with bland palettes, this vibrant, colorful drama may be just the thing for you. It's a rainbow from start to finish.

5. Actually a good central plot?

Despite all the wacky delightful shounen nonsense that this show has -- and it has a lot -- the core of the whole narrative, which is Xiao Se's story, is surprisingly great and cohesive.

The short version is this: Xiao Se used to be Xiao Chuhe, sixth prince and somewhat heir apparent. Then he and his jerk-ass dad had a falling-out that resulted in the prince's having his martial arts abilities all but taken from him. He's been living the life of a very well-dressed innkeeper for several years, trying to avoid all of that palace garbage. But now his jerk-ass dad is dying, which means that a lot of horrible decisions are finally having unfortunate consequences for everyone, and Xiao Se's got to get back in there to make sure everything does not go to shit and land someone terrible on the throne -- even if it has to mean taking it himself.

His central conflict is between what he used to be and what he's become. Does he miss being Xiao Chuhe, high-ranked martial artist and future emperor? Or is he happier being Xiao Se, long-suffering nobody who can barely run a business, much less hold his own in a fight? What would he be willing to do to get back what he's lost? What are his obligations to himself versus his obligations to everyone else? How much is he responsible for his father's bullshit? And why has he wound up having to babysit this stupid Fire Puppy?

It's okay, they're best friends now. Lei Wujie decided.

No spoilers, but I liked Xiao Se's ending a lot. I feel it's very true to the character and shows a real understanding of who he is and what he values. And really, at the end of the day, sometimes all you need for a happy ending is your girlfriend, your girlfriend's girlfriend, your girlfriend's girlfriend's boyfriend who's also your boyfriend, your other boyfriend, his girlfriend, and your long-distance for-real soulmate.

Feel like giving the youths a try?

You can find them on YouTube or on Viki. But be absolutely sure that no matter where you watch it, you make sure to go watch the epilogue as well. (And if you get real into the story, well, here's a link to information about all the other adaptations.)

You are also welcome for how I did not spend this post going off for five hundred years on how much I love Wuxin and his funky relationship to Buddhism. I figured that's way too niche of a selling point for most people, and might indeed have even been counterproductive. But know that I could have.

Also, I'm very happy about the announcement of a second season, because that's going to mean Liu Xueyi has to shave his head again, and he looks unbearably good with a shaved head.

Oh yeah, did I forget to mention the whole motorcycle photoshoot?

In case you hadn't noticed, the whole cast is stupidly hot. Hachi machi.

#the blood of youth #少年歌行 #bloody youths #i made this #rec post #the party is a polycule #LeiDHD

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aakariiiii · 7 months

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I kept tellin’ her to piss off ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

features: Draken x fem!reader

contains: Draken and reader are arguing in front of all toman members

a/n: yaaayayy my 3rd story since i’ve gotten back!!!! uts draken this time since iys been a while since i’ve written a fic ab him (mostly cuz last time was bad n i keep making him ooc n its so annoying ugh) but yeah i hope u guys enjoy this and i hope i see some requests in my inbox soon!!!!.!.!

____________________________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine a fighting with my boyfriend during a Toman meeting. Never.

So why is it that we are currently yelling at each other, caught in a storm of emotions, while hundreds of eyes glare at both our faces?

“Well, you started it, Ken,” I argue, my body filled with heat as anger curled inside of my guts, burning. Or maybe it’s sadness, because the sight of her arm hooked around his stung, a pang of hurt I couldn’t shake.

“Haa? Are you fucking serious right now? I started it? Entertain me, dumbass,” he yells bewilderingly as a bulging vein appears out of his forehead.

“You know damn well what you did,” I whisper as my emotions threatened to spill over, but I fought to keep them at bay.

Whispers and piercing gazes felt like relentless spotlights, each adding weight to the already burdened air. To make it worse, being surrounded by an audience with menacing curiosity felt suffocating.

A chilly whisper of the passing wind delicately teased my senses, I found solace in its fleeting touch. I could feel Draken’s unbearable yet contradictingly reassuring presence creep up near me. A callous but soft grip embraced my wrist and pulled me out and away from the intrusive crowd, pumping a sense of relief within me. The hushed whispers and murmurs faded away into nothingness as Draken pulled me further away.

As if a thousand feathers took flight from my shoulders, carrying with them the burden that had settled there, I had felt much more comforted.

So why is it that unbidden tears raced down my cheeks, tracing an unexpected river of emotion, painting the canvas of my face with the silent tales my heart refused to voice. The tails that would carve unwanted scars from the truth unveiling within Draken’s awaited words.

Surely, he didn’t cheat right? is what I’d like to tell myself but his arm hooked around hers tells me otherwise.

A despondent sob escaped my mouth shattering the fragile silence as my feet came to a halt, and his grip released my pale wrist.

“Y/n, look at me,” he breathed, his voice tangled with a mess of melancholy.

I shake my head as my sobs continue to dash out of my mouth and my hands involuntarily start rubbing at the tears cascading down my cheeks.

But then I feel the touch of his benignly crude fingers tilt my chin so that his eyes can meet mine. His eyes, black as night, contrarily exuded a soothing presence, urging trust with their serene and comforting gaze.

“Y/n—I swear it’s ain’t what you think. I’d never cheat on you, dumbass. Promise—she was buggin’ me the whole day and I kept tellin’ her to piss off. I was so ready to punch the hell outta her tell I reminded myself that she’s a woman—I swear. I have never talked to her after that day, y/n. You gotta trust me, because both you ‘nd I know that I’m not the typa person to do that kinda shit,” he exhaled, arms falling down to my waist.

I didn’t know how to react, deep within me, I knew Draken would never do that to me. He’d never do that, so why did I not go and ask him about it instead of pulling the shitty move I did by going around his team members and sparking up unwanted conversations with them, while Draken was watching me. He must have felt awful.

I curse at myself as I bring my head to his solid, toned chest, wrapping my arms around his torso.

“I’m so—so sorry, Ken,” I sniffled.

“I do trust you—I just didn’t know how to react after I saw her arm wrapped around yours—I’m so sorry for trying to get back at you the way I did earlier,” I mumble in a muffled matter as my head is buried into his chest.

“I didn’t know you get easily jealous, babe” a teasing chuckle echoed through Draken’s body as he ruffled my hair.

“Oh, shut it! Of course I’d get jealous over you!”

“Of course I’d get jealous when I like you this much,” I mumble, flustered as heat spread into the apples of my cheek.

And with that, he broke our warm embrace to pull me into a kiss that blazed with the fervor of our shared affection, each touch a spark igniting an inferno of love between us.

“I’m joking, babe. I love you so much” he said while pulling away.

____________________________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

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legendofzoodles · 5 months

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The Chain and spending money

Time

The cautious. The man is helping run a ranch, funds and expenditure is one of those routine things constantly circling through his mind even while adventuring. He used to be pretty irresponsible with his money when he was young but marriage and actual responsibilities outside of nebulous heroics has made him, well, cautious. He has a future to plan for and what is essentially a business to co run.

Warriors

The extravagant. Due to the nature of his job he's never had time for small shopping trips and thus saves up and spends a huge amount on one of his rare off days. He's a confident spender, if he wants something he'll get it without regret. He's also the type to persuade whoever he's shopping with to purchase things he thinks they'll like.

Twilight

The boring. There's not much really to talk about here, growing up in simplicity means he doesn't really need lots of stuff and always content with what he has, never really feeling the need to buy more. Even window shopping doesn't appeal to him really. If you want it get it, don't stand around imagining what it would be like to have it.

Sky

The generous. He can't help thinking of others when shopping and will always grab a little something for the people he cares about. As a crafter himself he loves to support small local businesses and will be generously spending at any village market day.

Legend

The picky. Probably out of all of them has the best judgement of an object's worth, so when he spends his money you know it's for something really good. Not that he has to much these days, he is that one friend who no only has everything but is extremely picky and thus impossible to shop for.

Wild

The distracted. Always has some goal in mind when he enters a market, looking for things like new ingredients or clothes. And he will always complete that shopping list, after 3 hours, along with a shopping cart's stuff of other things he didn't plan on buying.

Four

The investor. He plans for everything, business and personal expenditure. Very practical too, he's not one to really spend money on things specifically for himself because getting all the colours to agree on something is like expecting Ganondorf to water the palace garden flowers the next time he invades Hyrule Castle.

Hyrule

The thoughtless. Is so used to foraging and finding what he needs that, when presented with the option to shop, if he doesn't have a crystal clear idea of what he's going to get he will spend his hard found rupees on stuff he doesn't need. He's the opposite of Legend, with no understanding or care for an object's worth outside of battle and adventuring.

He's also the most likely to get cheated into investing in a pyramid scheme or buying this 'incredible never before seen' product if approached in the marketplace.

Wind

The haggler. If he finds something he wants at a market he'd much rather trade it for something he has and haggle like there's no tomorrow; he loves to spin tall tales about how he acquired the things he wants to trade...even if more often than not one of the chain's items he 'bought' from them (meaning he took it and left rupees in its place).

~~~

Thanks for reading!

How long has it been since I've done one of these? Dang

Masterlist

Headcanons:

Parkour team

Honorary Gorons

How each member of the chain laughs

How the chain solves dungeon puzzles

The Chain as procrastinators

Flora is Feral

The Chain’s time management skills

#what kind of spender are you?#linked universe #lu #linkeduniverse #lu twilight #lu wild #lu four #lu time #lu warriors #lu hyrule #lu wind #linked universe headcanon #linked universe headcanons #lu headcanons #lu headcanon #lu drabble #lu fic idea #lu fic ideas

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miryum · 4 months

Text

Always in All Ways (Mattheo Riddle x Reader) Great Gatsby AU

Warnings: angst!!!! (but a happy ending) Reader wears a dress (once) cause it’s the 20s. Talk of kids and a future together. For the sake of incest, we’re gonna ignore the fact that Enzo and Mattheo are half brothers… And if you squint, there could be a sign of domestic abuse (but it is so little there that I'm not sure if you can call it that). Reader is married (not to Mattheo at first) and it's not technically cheating.... it's hard to explain. As always, swearing. Not entirely proof-read, but will get it done soon

Lorenzo Berkshire had moved into a gated, two story house, surrounded by a thick forest. The neighbourhood he had moved into was affectionately called Diadem East.

Diadem East was surrounded by a large bay, which, in turn, separated it from Diadem West. Diadem East and Diadem West were similar in the fact that they were obscenely rich. Even though both had enough wealth to buy the island of New York, Diadem West looked down on Diadem East because of generational wealth. Diadem West had come from old money - long lines of families that treated life like a simple game of chess and they could move others like pawns. Diadem East were those who only recently came into money and spent it freely and without care.

Lorenzo had moved to Diadem East in hopes of getting away from his overbearing parents, and it helped that his cousin lived right across the bay in Diadem West.

Y/n Pucey was a recent newlywed to Adrian Pucey. Lorenzo hadn’t been able to make it to the wedding, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to see his baby cousin married to a man fifteen years older than her. Y/n had always been Lorenzo’s favourite cousin; she was a bubbling, carefree girl, probably due to the fact that from birth, she had no restrictions with her father’s money. Now that she was married to the pretentious Pucey family, Lorenzo doubted she was familiar with the word ‘no’.

What Lorenzo did doubt, however, was Y/n’s happiness. He remembered a time, back when she was nineteen, that he had visited her over summer break. She told him tales of a man that had captured her heart. Lorenzo remembered how Y/n’s eyes gleamed and her cheeks burned with her extensive smiling. He remembered laughing with Y/n in the sunroom, saying, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy.”

“I’m in love, Enzo,” she had replied simply.

Needless to say, Lorenzo couldn’t wait to see his cousin again. He also couldn’t wait to return to a normal sleep schedule, given that his new neighbour wouldn’t stop having parties every single night that blasted light and music into Lorenzo’s bedroom window. It wasn’t until Thursday at four pm when a butler knocked on Lorenzo’s back door, holding a silver plate with a letter positioned on it. “Can I help you?” Enzo asked slowly, leaning on the door frame.

“Mister Riddle requests your presence on Friday night for a party he is throwing,” the butler said.

“Mister… Riddle?” Enzo reiterated. “I’m sorry, who?”

“Your neighbour, Mister Mattheo Riddle,” the butler explained. “He wanted to welcome you into the neighbourhood.”

“Right,” Enzo trailed off. “I’ll be there.”

“Mister Riddle looks forward to making your acquaintance.”

****

The next day, Enzo drove up to Diadem West, the hilltop Pucey Manor looming over everything. As soon as Enzo finished driving up the winding gravel road, the front door swung open dramatically. Y/n stood there, arms flung wide. “Darling Enzo!” she squealed. “Oh, how I’ve missed you!”

“My sweet cousin!” Enzo called back, bounding up the steps. He whirled Y/n up in his arms, swinging her back and forth, much to her delight. Her sundress flared around them in a swirling dance. “How have you been?”

“Lively,” Y/n answered simply. “How are those back home? You must tell me everything.”

Enzo flung his head back and said dramatically, “they miss you dearly, loving cousin. When I passed through town, everyone wept when they heard I was to see you. Jealous men came running down from their houses and begged me to take them with you. Mothers sobbed and cried out how they wished their daughters would turn out like you. Children dashed through the streets, racing after my carriage with joy.”

“They did?” Y/n beamed, gripping onto Enzo’s arms. “I do miss them, you know. Perhaps I should visit next summer.”

“They would all love to see you,” Enzo stated plainly. “Yet I have a question for you. Do you know of-”

“Lorenzo Berkshire,” a voice boomed from the front door. “What’s a man like you doing in these parts?”

Enzo stared up at Adrian Pucey, the esteemed husband of Y/n. “Adrian,” Enzo peeled himself away from Y/n and sauntered up the steps. “It’s nice to see you again.” He held out his hand for the man to shake.

“Get in here, good pal.” Adrian clapped Enzo’s hand and pulled him into a rough hug. Enzo let out a huff of air as he collided with Adrian’s chest. “Wonderful to see you as well. Tell me, how’s the stock business going?” Adrian placed a nonnegotiable hand on Enzo’s shoulder and led him inside the Pucey mansion. Y/n let out a noise of surprise and hurried in after them, determined not to be left behind.

“Good, good.” Enzo made senseless conversation with Adrian as he tried to take in the curated house he was in. All the doors and windows were open, letting in a soft breeze and the stinging smell of the bay water. The curtains fluttered around Y/n as she walked, her eyes cautiously on her cousin and husband. No matter how she acted, Lorenzo knew of the whip sharp mind that Y/n had.

“And you know where he’s living, Adrian?” Y/n cut in, moving to recline gracefully on the settee. “In Diadem East!”

Adrian’s brows rose and he turned to Enzo as the men sat on the couch. “Why not buy a house here? Hell, you’re welcome to stay in our guest room. Anything for a relative.”

“No, please.” Enzo held a hand up. “I’m perfectly fine on my own and I don��t want to intrude. It’s a nice, cosy house looking over the bay. In fact, if I look towards the right, I can see the end of your pier.”

“Really?” Y/n lit up, head turning towards Enzo. “How sweet. It’s almost as if we’re neighbours.”

“Speaking of neighbours,” Enzo took this opportunity to ask, “my own seems to be very eccentric.”

Adrian chuckled and poured himself some whiskey. “How so? Do you want any?” He gestured to the whiskey.

“No, but thank you.” Enzo adjusted in his seat and crossed his legs. “My neighbour throws these obscene parties almost every single night. I’m convinced that if it weren’t for the trees, I wouldn’t be able to get any sleep.” Y/n stretched out her legs and leaned her head back until it was resting on the arm of the chair. “But the oddest thing happened - he invited me to one tonight.”

“Really?” Adrian sipped his drink. “And who is this poseur?”

“A Mister Riddle.”

Y/n’s lips parted and, almost in slow motion, her eyes flickered to Lorenzo before going back to staring out the window to the gleaming blue water outside. “Riddle?” she murmured. Adrian glanced at her and Enzo’s brows furrowed. “I mean, there must be a thousand Riddles… why, in fact, just last month, I was introduced to a Ryder. Which is like Riddle, I guess.”

“Y/n, are you alright?” Enzo asked softly.

“Yes, are you well?” Adrian added on.

“I’m sure I’m fine,” Y/n said. “Perhaps just lightheaded. I’m going to go lay down now.” Her hand flit to her collarbone where a small chain was tucked under her dress.

“Okay.” Enzo stared after her, admittedly worried about his cousin, before standing and adjusting his suit. “Well, I'm afraid I have to go. Mustn’t be late to this fellow’s party.”

“Of course.” Adrian stood as well, in common courtesy, knowing that the two men had nothing in common or nothing to do with each other without Y/n as the mediator. “Riddle…” the man muttered. “I could’ve sworn I heard that name somewhere.”

“It’s a common name, you know.” Enzo chuckled as he swiped out the door.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Adrian closed the door behind Enzo almost as an afterthought.

****

“What do you want, my darling? Anything you wish and I will make it happen.”

“I’m happy with just you, Matty.”

“That’s not a good enough answer, and you know it. Now, I’m going to ask again: what do you want?”

“… I… I want a big house. Overlooking the water so our kids can play in the water.”

“Our kids, hm?”

“Oh, yes, Matty. Our kids.”

“Alright. And what else?”

“Hmm… and a big ballroom that we can dance in. And all the paintings will be our favourites. And big parties for every occasion. Perhaps a pool. Or a sunroom. And the largest bedroom ever.”

“Is that all?”

“As long as I have you, Matty, that’s all I ask.”

****

While everyone else arrived to Riddle’s party in new and shining cars, Enzo simply walked. People of all backgrounds were streaming in the doors and Enzo was pushed into the unrelenting mob of partygoers. Enzo shoved his way to the first butler he saw and presented his invitation. “Uh, yes. I have this invitation here…”

The butler glanced down at the letter and said stoically, “you needn’t one.”

“Pardon?” Enzo had never been to a party where he didn’t need to be invited.

“The guests come and go as they please - per Mister Riddle’s orders.”

“Alright,” Enzo pursed his lips together and nodded awkwardly. “Thank you. Do you know where I could find Mister Riddle?”

“No, sir,” the butler replied. “He likes to socialise with his attendees and be in the throng of things. He likes to make sure that everyone is comfortable and having a good time.”

Enzo hummed and nodded in thanks before allowing himself to be swept up in the current. He was carried further into the opulent mansion and Lorenzo needed to remind himself to close his mouth at the palatial nature of it all.

Practically every surface was plated with gold or made of marble. The ballroom opened up to a balcony that overlooked a large pool which was currently populated with dozens of people. On the other side of the ballroom, a large sunroom was occupied by a throng of people, cigarette smoke wisping up through the open roof. The stars were obscured by not only the smoke, but by the fact that every light in the mansion was turned on. Marble stairs led down to another open room which held a stage and a band whose music filtered up throughout the rooms. Congressmen, celebrities, and random people off the street were packed into the house, booze and drugs were passed around and waiters tried to filter through the crowd to hand out refreshments and food.

As he passed, Enzo heard tidbits of conversations about their host. “Did you know he was a bootlegger?”

“No, no, I heard he fought in the last war.”

“Well, whatever it is, it’s all terribly romantic.”

“Well, I thought that he was chasing a girl-”

Enzo managed to fight his way to the balcony and snag a glass of champagne on his way. He sighed in relief at finding a bubble of air to himself. A man dressed in a finely pressed suit jostled into him and quickly apologised. “Terribly sorry, old friend,” the man said. “I didn’t see you there. It’s a rowdy party tonight, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Enzo replied loudly. “Is it usually like this?”

“Unfortunately,” the man grinned. “Although few frequent. I always find that many people come once and then never return.”

“You seem like you know an awful lot about Mister Riddle’s parties. Do you come here often?”

“Yes,” the man tsked. “As hard as I try, I can’t pull myself away from this old mansion. Something always draws me back. Did you know that Mattheo Riddle built this house from scratch?”

“I did not.”

“Yes,” the man laughed, his lips curing up. “Of course, he didn’t build the actual thing, but he bought the land and drew up the blueprints years ago. Six, to be exact.”

“Why is that?”

“No one knows for sure. There’s a lot of rumours circulating around Riddle.”

Enzo shouted over the music, “I was actually invited by Mister Riddle himself. But his butler seemed surprised by that.”

“Yes, it is very rare that one is personally invited to these gatherings.”

“Do you know where I could find him? Mister Riddle, I mean.” Enzo took a sip of his champagne.

The man laughed again and raised his own champagne glass. A smirk coiled up on his face and he said simply, “why, you’re talking to him, old friend. I am Mattheo Riddle.”

The party noise faded in Enzo’s ears. “Oh. I’m so sorry.” His hand shot out for Riddle to shake. “I didn’t mean to be rude. Pardon me, Mister Riddle.”

Mattheo Riddle shook Enzo’s hand, still grinning. His eyes held a mix of anticipation and happiness. Those who were close to Mattheo Riddle - which, really, was no one - had never seen such joy on Mattheo’s face. “Oh, call me Riddle. Or better yet, Mattheo. I feel as if I already know you, old friend. And, seeing as we’re neighbours, I hope to get to know you even better. How would you like to join me in my study?”

Enzo raised a brow and cliched his champagne fluke. “May I ask what for?”

“Oh, well, to tell you my life story, after all.” Mattheo clapped a hand on Enzo’s shoulder, much like Adrian had hours earlier. But unlike Adrian, Enzo found himself agreeing to go along with this man he only met today.

Mattheo led Enzo down the hallway and nodded to a butler who was standing guard over an oak door. The butler opened the door up to Mattheo’s study, which was more of a library. The library was a much different aesthetic than the rest of the house. While the mansion next to Enzo’s little cottage was energetic and extravagant, Mattheo’s library was dark and cosy. Instead of gold and marble, it was made of oak and the flickering flames of candles.

“An impressive collection,” Enzo commented, glancing around the room at the rows of books.

“Why, thank you,” Mattheo replied. “It overlooks the bay, you see?” He pointed towards the window that, true to his word, was directly facing the large water.

Enzo peered out the window and huffed a laugh when he saw Y/n’s house staring back at him. “That’s my cousin's house,” Enzo glanced back at Mattheo to see his gaze locked on the Pucey mansion.

“I know,” Mattheo said quietly.

“You know?” Lorenzo repeated questioningly.

“Yeah,” Mattheo nodded. “You’ve heard rumours of me.” It wasn’t a question. Before Enzo could answer, Matthei continued, “but I can assure you, only one of those is true, old friend. I am… a helpless romantic.” Mattheo chuckled lowly, a sad layer in his eyes. Instead of sitting behind his large desk, Mattheo opted to lounge on a couch and Enzo sat in a loveseat next to him.

“What do you mean by that?”

“About… eight years ago I met this girl. God, she was absolutely perfect.” Mattheo gazed out at Diadem West. “I have been bereft of her for so many years… And I finally hope to make it up to her. I’ve become the man that will be good enough for her archaic parents.”

“Where did you meet her?” Enzo asked quietly.

“I was visiting her hometown one day, eight years ago. And I just…” Mattheo took a moment to wet his chapped lips. “She had all other eyes on her. She was simply walking down the street, yet she drew everyone to her. And when I was blessed enough to hold her in my arms… to kiss her lips is better than heaven.”

“May I guess her name?” Enzo’s smile grew larger. “Is this lovely, captivating woman my cousin, Y/n Pucey?”

“How did you know?” Mattheo’s voice was airy and wistful.

“Many men have tripped over their feet just to take a glance at my cousin. She is not only beautiful, holding the Berkshire genes, but witty, magnetic, and gentle.” Enzo finished his champagne and lit a cigar that Mattheo had offered him. “And, well, she might have mentioned you once or twice. She was in love with you when she was nineteen. Perhaps she still is.” Mattheo’s eyes snapped to Enzo. “Then she was married to Adrian Pucey. Honestly, I’m a little surprised that you’re living right across from her.”

“Yes, I’m aware of all that,” Mattheo stated. “But nothing has been an accident, Mister Berkshire. There’s a reason why I host parties every weekend, why I keep the lights on every night, why my home is directly across from hers, and why you, her cousin, is renting next to me.”

Enzo scrutinised this stranger across from him. “You’re obsessed with my cousin,” he stated, somewhat disgustedly.

“No,” Mattheo whispered. “I’m in love with your cousin. I have always been in love with her - in all ways. And she is me. Mention my name around her and you’ll see.”

“I have,” Enzo admitted. “She looked as if she’d seen a ghost. But she also looked guilty, Riddle. She’s married. She has a life. She wants children.” Mattheo’s jaw jumped as Enzo continued, “you can’t rip her away from that. It’s been years, Riddle. She hasn’t seen you for years.”

“I know…” Mattheo trailed off. “But just to see her again would fulfil any wish of mine. I have a vow I need to make due on. I- uh, I was wondering if you could invite her over for tea. And I could drop by. Just one day.” Mattheo’s eyes felt dry and he quickly blinked.

Enzo sighed deeply and after a long moment, said, “okay. Tuesday? At three?”

A weight lifted off of Mattheo’s shoulders. He now had all the time in the world. In his eyes, everything was finally falling into place. Mattheo would finally get to be happy again. “That sounds absolutely perfect.”

****

Tuesday was outrageously cloudy. Lorenzo could hardly see the sun as he drove back to his house. As he pulled into his driveway, he came to see an ostentatious green Rolls-Royce convertible that was blocking his drive. Enzo stared defeatedly at the car for a long moment, knowing exactly whose it was.

Mattheo Riddle leaned on the hood and proceeded to wave at Enzo as if the man wasn’t hours too early to tea.

“You have a watch, don’t you?” Enzo called out, getting out of his car.

“I couldn’t wait,” Mattheo admitted. “I had nothing else to do today - well, that’s not true. I in fact cancelled some meetings that were set to take place today, but no worries.”

“You cancelled - you know what? Nevermind. Look, Riddle, I sure hope you know what you’re doing. Y/n… she’s changed from when you met her.” Enzo couldn’t look at his neighbour as he unlocked his door. Mattheo followed in after him, glancing around courteously, as if the real reason he was here wasn’t sending waves of nerves through his stomach. Enzo glanced back at Mattheo and moved to the kitchen to make some tea. Mattheo followed after him, his gait slow. “She used to believe that she could live any way she wanted,” Enzo continued. “But then she met Adrian.”

“Hm.” Mattheo made a low noise in his throat, fingers reaching out to play with the teacups that hung from a shelf.

“She’s not… unhappy with Adrian,” Enzo tried to explain. “But she’s putting her happiness aside for the grandeur of life.”

“I could give her that grandeur,” Mattheo muttered.

“Do you know how people back home would treat her if they found out she got divorced from Adrian Pucey just to marry a man who is rumoured to be a bootlegger?” Enzo asked, aghast. He roughly swallowed and said quietly, “I’m sorry. That was out of line.”

“No, no,” Mattheo waved him off, still seemingly fascinated by Enzo’s teacups. “It’s perfectly in line. You make a valid point. Though I can assure you, I am not a bootlegger. Far from it.”

“Then what is your line of work?”

“Never you mind. When is Y/n coming?” Mattheo turned to Enzo, changing the topic at an alarming speed. The teacups were long forgotten.

Enzo exhaled and dunked a teabag in the teapot. “She said she’ll be arriving around three. However, that means that she’ll either be arriving at two-fifteen on account of wanting to escape Adrian, or she’ll arrive at four-thirty because Adrian needs something from her.”

“Let’s hope it’s the former,” Mattheo growled.

As if on cue, the two men heard the rumbling of a car approaching. The air in the room stilled. Mattheo’s face dropped and he turned pale, staring at the door. They heard Y/n’s honey voice call out, “Lorenzo!” Enzo quickly came to his senses and rushed to open the door. Y/n was driving up, waving her hat enthusiastically in one hand. A smile split on Enzo’s face as he rushed over to help her out of her car. “I must say, I was wary when you asked me to visit without Adrian,” Y/n chatted as Enzo escorted her into the house. “I couldn’t possibly think of anything you would need from me.”

“Can’t I just ask you over for tea?” Enzo chuckled. “Does everything I do need malicious intent?”

“Based on your past, yes.”

Enzo rolled his eyes playfully. After he took Y/n’s coat and hat, his eyes darted around his house, but he couldn’t find one trace of Mattheo anywhere. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll… I’ll grab the tea,” Enzo muttered. He moved to his kitchen, and seeing his back door ajar, he shoved it open. “Where are you going?!” he cried out to Mattheo who was currently halfway across the lawn.

Mattheo spun back to Enzo, fear deeply rooted in his expression. “I can’t,” he whispered after he jogged back to Enzo. “I can’t do it. You’re absolutely right. She... she has a life. And probably doesn’t even remember me. It would be cruel to subject her to such emotions. I don’t want to cause her any harm.”

Enzo shook his head. “I will not have invited my cousin to tea under false pretences,” he said slowly and firmly. “You owe this to her,” he added.

A droplet of rain fell from a passing cloud and fell faster and faster until it splattered on Mattheo’s wrist. The water was absorbed by the cuff of Mattheo’s shift, but a small bit of the water rolled down onto his hand and drifted its way down to Mattheo’s ring finger. A thin gold band sat snug there. “Do you know what a pyrrhic victory means?”

“Yes.” Enzo frowned inquisitively. “It’s victory that cost the victor more than it did the defeated. But what does that have to do with Y/n?”

“My love for Y/n has cost me everything,” Mattheo muttered. “But she is everything. I'm used to people hating me for my wealth and how reserved I am. What I'm used to isn't people's love. And now, my love is with Y/n and I'm not letting anyone ruin that or take it away from me.” More raindrops began falling from the sky until a gentle pitter-patter could be heard all around them.

“So why don’t you come in and tell her that?” Enzo asked, gesturing towards his door.

Mattheo’s jaw jumped but he nodded, giving in. He shuffled through the door and into the living room where Y/n sat. Enzo grinned to himself and shut the door behind them before hearing Y/n gasp and the sound of a glass breaking. Enzo cursed to himself, knowing one of his precious teacups had now lost its life.

“M- Matty?” Y/n murmured, eyes wide. “Oh- oh, dear.” She stared down at the broken teacup on the carpet and bent down, hands shuddering. Mattheo crouched down as well, maintaining eye contact with Y/n the entire way. Y/n shook her head and focused on cleaning up her mess. Enzo noticed her whole body was trembling and he took a step forward as if to console her. Mattheo beat him to the punch. He grasped her forearms and helped her up, leaving the teacup behind. Y/n sniffed and repeated, “Matty?”

“Yeah, darling. It’s me,” Mattheo murmured, stepping closer to her. His hold on her arms softened and his cheek brushed against her forehead.

Y/n exhaled shakily. “What are you doing here?” she whispered, tipping her head to lean into a more intimate position with Mattheo. Enzo slid out of the room, smirking faintly.

“I live next to Enzo,” Mattheo said, neither one bothering to look for Y/n’s cousin.

Y/n chuckled humourlessly. “Tell me the real reason, Matty. I know you better than this.”

Mattheo smiled - the truest smile Enzo had ever seen on his neighbour’s face (not that Enzo was watching from the next room) - and leaned down to bump his nose against hers. “I could never hide anything from you. Not that I ever would, but I digress.” Mattheo reached down and gently lifted Y/n’s hand to his lips. He pressed featherlight kisses along her fingertips and confessed, “a year after you married Adrian, I built a house across the bay. The mansion whose windows are alight every single night with fireworks going off every weekend… that’s me, darling. Trying to get you to even glance over at me. Renting the neighbouring cabin to your cousin… that’s me. Every little detail, down to my car, is so I can see you again.”

“You did all that for me?” Y/n ran a soft thumb over Mattheo’s jawline, making the man shiver.

“And I will do so much more,” Mattheo promised. “I am yours, my love. Always in all ways.”

****

Y/n sat curled in Mattheo’s lap. The pair was under a tree on a picnic blanket, far from the L/n Villa. “I’m sorry I couldn’t spend my birthday with you, Matty,” Y/n murmured to him. “I know you had a surprise for me.”

“It’s alright, darling,” Mattheo whispered back, dragging his fingers through Y/n’s hair. “I know nineteen is a monumental birthday for your family.”

“But now you have me all to yourself,” Y/n lightly laughed, turning to grin at her lover. “What was the surprise you had for me? You’ve been awfully suspicious these past few days, Matty.”

Mattheo hummed, looking to the sky and rhythmically tapping his fingers against you. “Well, I don’t know, my love,” he teased. “What could I possibly get the most perfect girl for her birthday?” After your protests, he continued, not before kissing your temple. “I got you my heart,” he whispered. Out from his pocket, he pulled a thin chain. Dangling teasingly from the chain was a golden ring. “So I can be with you always,” Mattheo explained quietly.

Tears pricked at Y/n’s eyes as she gently took the necklace from him and thread the chain through her fingers. “You… you’re being serious right now?” Her focus was drawn to Mattheo’s own ring finger, where she noticed a new, immortal band lay proudly. “Are you…?”

“Only for you,” Mattheo reassured her. “Don’t worry. It’s my way of showing my devotion.” He twisted the necklace around her neck, clipping it there.

“Only for me?”

“Always in all ways,” Mattheo vowed.

****

Y/n frequented outings with her friends much more often as of late. Adrian only sent Y/n away with a half-committed kiss on the cheek and eyes fixated on his golfing or his business contracts. Y/n would get in her car (or Enzo’s if he was feeling nice), and drive down to Mattheo’s mansion. Most days, there would be other cars there, waiting for Riddle’s house to open to party. They would be carrying booze and wearing all fashions of clothes, and when they would walk up to his door only to be turned away, they would pout and groan. Mattheo’s house wasn’t blazing his lights anymore, nor were there any fireworks crackling each weekend. His car was kept parked in his garage and his smile was constant.

The first time Y/n had gone over to Mattheo’s mansion, so conveniently and coincidentally located across from hers, she had been in awe. “It’s exquisite!” she had exclaimed. She had run all over the house, marvelling at the floors and the ceilings, dragging Mattheo along behind her. Mattheo laughed loudly, his joy echoing off the walls. Of course, all of the art decorating his walls was accented to Y/n’s taste and the colour palette was exactly as Y/n had hoped for all those years ago.

“Dance with me,” she beckoned Mattheo one day, already spinning on the deserted dance floor. Mattheo would lock the doors to his manor and keep out the partiers forever and always if it meant he could see Y/n on his dance floor, waiting for him.

Mattheo stared at her, his eyes bright with love. He swept her up in his arms, pressing her close, and they danced to nonexistent music. Y/n rested her head on Mattheo’s chest and whispered, “this is nice.”

“This is very nice, indeed. I hope to do it more often.”

Y/n’s fingers gripped onto Mattheo’s shoulders. “Matty…” she whispered. “You know my feelings for you. But I- Adrian-”

“Please don’t speak his name,” Mattheo pleaded. “And I know about him. But I don’t care about him. Please tell me you don’t care about him either.”

“He is my husband, Mattheo.”

“That doesn’t mean you care about him.” Y/n took a breath and stepped slowly back from Mattheo. His mouth parted slowly and desperation filled his eyes. His hands reached out in anguish. “Please, my love. Don’t do this.”

“I will never love him as much as I love you,” Y/n clarified gently. “But I don’t hate him, either. Over the years, I have come to care for him. It’s a complicated feeling, Mattheo, I’m sure you understand.”

“Marry me,” Mattheo suddenly declared. “I promise, my dearest, I will give you all and more.”

“It’s not fair to Adrian,” Y/n protested, her hands dropped to her sides. “We don’t live in a life where one can just divorce their spouse to pursue another. You know of the rigidity and the silent rules that if we don’t follow, the exile we face.”

“Exile of what?” Mattheo cried, helplessness in his voice. “You can move in here. I can give you the life we dreamed of.”

“The life I dreamed of included my parents and my loved ones,” Y/n objected. “Not an isolated life with only one of the many I love.”

“Anyone you love can come visit you if they want,” Mattheo offered. “I won’t push anyone away. I just want you.”

“You know they won’t visit,” Y/n’s voice broke. “You know people will ridicule us. And I am so sorry, Matty, but I don’t know if I could live with that.” Mattheo didn’t speak for a long moment, staring at Y/n’s neck. “What’s wrong?” she eventually demanded. “Do I have something on my collar?”

“No,” Mattheo murmured softly. “It’s just… you kept it.” He pointed to Y/n’s neck and reached out to finger the chain around Y/n’s neck. The woman couldn’t help but shiver under his light touch. “You kept it,” he repeated. Carefully, as if afraid he might break her, Mattheo lifted the hidden necklace that was tucked under Y/n’s dress. “My ring.”

“I couldn’t bear to get rid of it,” Y/n’s breath hitched and she swallowed back tears. “I’ve never taken it off. Even- even on my wedding day.”

Beside himself, Mattheo chuckled, though it quickly turned to a gasp for breath. “So even when he made love to you, you always kept my ring around your neck?” Tears slipped down his cheeks and Y/n reached up to quickly wipe them away.

“I don’t want you thinking about that,” Y/n muttered, shaking her head at the absurdness of it all. “Please… just be here with me.”

“I’m here,” Mattheo could hardly get a couple words out. He pulled her close to him and pressed a firm kiss on her forehead. “You still haven’t said no to my proposal.”

Y/n laughed loudly. “I didn’t think you were being serious.”

“With you, I am always serious,” Mattheo grinned, bending down to look her in the eye. “And that wasn’t an answer. Why are you avoiding the question, darling?”

Y/n sighed, a coy smile on her lips. “Would I simply leave Adrian? What of my things? Adrian would come looking for me, you know?”

“I would buy you whatever you’re missing a thousand times over.” Mattheo stared at Y/n, his eyes holding all the tenderness that a lover was supposed to have. “I would protect you and Adrian would never know where you are. He will never harm you, I promise.”

Y/n tapped Mattheo’s chest thrice and hummed. Mattheo’s heart fluttered and his lips brushed against her temple. Silently, he begged all the gods he knew of that Y/n would agree to be with him. His lips moved wordlessly, pleading, before Y/n said, “I will call you tomorrow, Matty. I’m sure Adrian already knows of our endeavours, but give me one night to collect my thoughts. Can you give me that much?”

“Of course, my love. Whatever you need.” He kissed Y/n’s forehead again. “Always in all ways.”

“Always in all ways,” Y/n repeated.

****

“Where are you going?”

Y/n’s shoulders tensed and she slowly turned around to face Adrian. A packed bag was on her bed. “Enzo, the sweetling cousin he is, invited me to stay with him,” she said. “I thought it would be fun to spend a night in East Diadem. To see how others live.”

“You? In East Diadem?” Adrian chortled a laugh. “And why, pray tell, would you do that?”

“Because I love my cousin,” Y/n reiterated firmly. “Are you forbidding me to see my family?”

Adrian’s head hung and he shook his head. “I may be rich, but I’m not stupid.” He hesitated before stating, “I know about Riddle.”

“My old friend?” Y/n asked smoothly. “Yes, he was a friend of Enzo’s. That’s how I met him, you know.” She cleared her throat and zipped up her bag.

“You’re fucking him, aren’t you?” Adrian then suddenly shouted out, his hair flying out of place and his face turning red. “He’s fucking my wife, that bastard! Why, I should- I outta- you bitch!” He growled and whirled around, dragging a hand through his hair.

“Adrian.” Y/n held up her hands, trying to soothe his emotions. It was the only way she learned how. “I haven’t been unfaithful to you, I promise. I made a vow on our wedding day and I have since upheld it.”

Adrian grunted and demanded, “so tell me you love me.”

Y/n swallowed. “I- I love you, Adrian. Just not in the way you want me to.”

Her husband let out a yell of frustration and slammed his hands down on the back of an armchair. Y/n flinched. After a tense moment, he hissed out, “go, then. Leave me.” His voice rose to a crescendo and he shouted out, “but know that I will never let you back into this life again! No one will ever let you step inside Diadem West without rumours and hatred trailing behind you.” He let his voice drop and as Y/n shuffled back, he raised his head and looked at her, pleadingly. “I want to make you stay,” Adrian whispered. “I want to tell you all the ways I love you. But… But I think we both know I can’t.” He took a step towards her and held a hand out as if he wanted to cup her face in his palm. “You are so beautiful, Y/n,” he muttered. “But he makes you feel alive. You- you deserve that.”

“So do you, Adrian,” Y/n choked out.

“I know,” he nodded once, conceding. “I know.”

****

It took four weeks for Y/n to officially move into the house across the bay. Immediately, she had sought out her cousin and stayed with him for some time. She spent many of those days sitting out on the lawn, staring out to the bay and her old house. Her hair would whip across her face and sometimes, Mattheo would come and sit a couple feet away from her, not saying a word. Mattheo knew she was experiencing the eroding feeling of guilt. He didn’t dare disturb her thoughts if, eventually, it would lead to him. What’s a couple more weeks when he had been waiting years?

Then, one day, Y/n turned towards Mattheo and said, “you promised to love me always and in all ways.”

Mattheo’s head whipped toward her. The shame in his eyes was deep. “Yes,” he uttered.

“I think I’m ready to take you up on your offer.”

Mattheo broke into a smile.

A year later, the pair was married. The band that had been around Y/n’s neck was now around her finger. Y/n’s parents refused to attend and she had spent the night crying in Mattheo’s arms. Enzo had taken the place of her father and walked her down the aisle. The wedding was sparse and while Mattheo’s aunt had come to offer her congratulations, as had one of Y/n’s old friends, the couple knew that their life would be a lonely one until they either made new friends or Y/n’s old friends in Diadem West came around. But they were happy.

Grand parties weren’t a frequent occurrence, though every month or so, Mattheo threw a celebration for an unimportant holiday, simply to show Y/n off. He finally had the pleasure to kiss her in a room full of people and not be ridiculed. However, parties weren’t needed. As long as Mattheo woke up with Y/n in his arms, he would call it the most wonderful day ever.

And when years had passed and their children would move out to begin their own endeavours, the house would lay empty. After decades had gone by and the mansion was simply a statement of extravagant wealth and the jubilance of society, people would wander in the house, marvelling at the gold and marble. Whispers would echo the hallways of the great love story that transpired within its walls. A large, dusty old portrait of the couple still hung above the fireplace, their eyes holding as much love as there was water in the bay.

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #harry potter fanfic #harry potter #adrian pucey #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire #x reader #great gatsby #great gatsby au #but with a happy ending #angst #flashbacks #loooveeeee #I love this and worked so hard on it #6.4k

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ofstoriesandstardust · 4 months

Text

go gentle into that good night (j.h.s.)

a/n: as always, this is for my dearly beloved @cottagecori for letting me ramble and explain and talk through ever angsty idea i have ever had.

summary: The tale of two parties

second star to the right (and straight on 'til morning)

warnings: rumored cheating, existential crisis, miscommunication, angst, swearing, alcohol mentions

word count: 1.4k

You always forget how much cooler it is out here by the ocean.

It’ll still be a few more months before anyone outside of seasoned surfers will brave the darkened water crashing onto the shore a ways out, but for now it’s calm and quiet as the cooler temperatures keep tourists away.

It's something your friends have taken advantage of as you sit around the firepit, hot dogs roasting and music and laughter echoing all around you. The salt in the air is strong and you lean closer into Jake as a strong breeze runs through.

The shiver that runs down your spine has nothing to do with the bite of the wind.

They’re all talking about their next steps, what comes after graduation, and your stomach turns at the thought of confessing that you don’t actually know.

The conversation you’d had with Pete earlier in the day while you’d waited for Bradley to dig through his parent’s garage for beach chairs plays on a loop, drowning out the words of your friends.

“It’s okay not to know what you’re doing!” Pete says with a laugh.

You worry at your bottom lip before sighing. “I just… everyone I know has these cool job offers or grad school acceptances they’re flaunting on social media, and I feel like I’m… falling behind.” You admit quietly. “Is this all I’m ever gonna be?”

Pete’s face falls at that. “Listen to me. You are incredibly intelligent. You have a very bright future ahead of you, even if that might be hard to see that right now. There are so many people in your life who are supporting you and rooting for you. You’ll figure it out, even if it takes you a little bit longer than others.” Pete pauses. “What are Jake’s plans?”

You shrug. “I think he’s expecting me to come with him wherever he goes.”

Pete pulls a face, full of emotion you aren’t sure you understand. “What?”

He hesitates. “It’s probably not my place, you both are my students-”

“What?” You insist.

“I just don’t want to see you confine your future for somebody else. I meant it when I said when you were one of the smartest students I have ever taught. You have the whole world at your feet. And I just… don’t want to watch you give that all up for somebody who might not be with you in five years time.”

A call of your name startles you back into the present and you blink, realizing Bob is asking if you have any plans for after graduation. You groan, covering your face. “Please don’t ask me that.”

Jake nudges you. “Don’t you want to go to grad school?”

“Yes, but I also want to take some time off. I guess, I don’t know. Can we please stop asking me about this and talk about something else?”

Javy lets out a little chuckle. “Hey, worst comes to worst, you can always be a wag.”

You blink. “A what?”

“A wag! It’s like a slang term for wives and girlfriends of football players.”

“So like... a trophy wife?”

“Kind of-”

“Machado, you say this like she’d want to be stuck with Seresin for that long.”

Jake’s eyes narrow at Bradley. “Bradshaw-”

“Okay, I’m tired of this, we’re moving on.” Natasha cuts the boy off with a roll of her eyes. “Who wants another drink?”

Natasha begins to pass out more cans from the cooler as you tuck yourself further into Jake. Another shiver goes down your spine as you wrap your arms around you.

“Are you cold?” Jake asks, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Do you want to go?”

You shake your head. “No, I’ll be fine.”

Jake nods, eyes searching yours before pulling his arm tighter around you as he rejoins the conversation.

And I just… don’t want to watch you give that all up for somebody who might not be with you in five years time.

The knock at your door is quickly followed by a call from Jake.

His beaming face in his contact photo appears as you hear him knock again. You answer the call with a click, smiling lazily as you turn down the volume of M*A*S*H* on your screen.

“Hello?”

“Let me in.” Jake’s words are almost a borderline whine.

You hum, pretending to think about it. “I don’t know, I’m doing research.”

He huffs. “You’re just watching M*A*S*H* again, aren’t you?”

“Hey, it’s relevant to my topic.”

He huffs again. “Please.”

You roll your eyes and hang up the call before slipping your blanket and laptop off of you and onto the couch. You pad over the front door of your apartment, pulling it open to see Jake.

His smile blooms at the sight of you as he stumbles forward to give you a hug. You stumble a few feet back with all his weight pressed against you. “Jesus, you’re a clingy drunk.” You mutter, wrapping your arms around him as you try to find your balance. “You’re supposed to be at Bradley’s party.”

With the conclusion of the baseball season (and his parents out of town), Bradley had thrown a party at his parents. You’d opted out of the evening to stay home and do homework, which had ultimately ended up with your scrolling through social media and doing very little work.

Jake hums into your shoulder and you can feel the outline of his smile. “But I wanted to see my girl.”

“You could’ve seen me tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow me will be hungover.”

“And drunk you thought it would be a good idea to come all the way over here?”

“Of course I did. I love you.”

The words Jake uses makes your breath catch in your throat.

Not that he loves seeing you or that he loves spending time with you, but that he loves you.

“Jake, I-” You swallow, unsure of what to say to him in response.

You’re sure that your feelings for Jake had evolved to love, but you weren’t sure if he reciprocated them and certainly had not expected for him to say them first.

And you certainly hadn’t expected it to be while he was drunk, whiskey scent strong on him.

Jake, however, does not seem to sense the gravity of his words as he pushes himself off of you and wanders into your apartment. You shut the door behind him, still feeling a bit dumbfounded.

“Hey, do you have any- Found it!” you follow him into your kitchen, where Jake is triumphantly holding a jar of Nutella.

“Jake, you don’t even like Nutella.” The blond frowns at the jar, as if he’s trying to remember if that’s true. “Why don’t you just come sit on the couch with me?”

Jake abandons the jar without a second though, plopping himself down on the furniture. You let out a sigh, feeling all kinds of off-kilter before moving your laptop to the coffee table before slipping back underneath the blanket and holding it up for Jake.

It takes some shifting and adjusting but he ultimately ends up sprawled out on your couch, head resting against your thigh.

“This is a good episode.” He murmurs and you glance back up at the TV. After watching for a few minutes, you realize it’s the episode where Hawkeye and Trapper are replacing Henry’s desk.

You let out a chuckle. “It is.”

Jake hums against your skin. “I love you.” He whispers on a breath out, so quiet you’re sure you aren't meant to catch the words.

It makes your heart stop again as you wonder if you’re meant to say them back.

Not like this. Not when he won’t remember come tomorrow.

The volume of the TV is soft, the laugh track quiet as Jake’s breathing slows. He’s fallen asleep against your thigh, you realize, as your fingers gently card through his hair.

Your phone buzzes from underneath your leg and you’re careful to not disturb Jake as you adjust to pull it out. You smile softly as his features soften as you begin to scratch his scalp.

That smile fades as you squint at the text preview on the screen in front of you.

hey, i’m really sorry to be the one to tell you this but i think it’s better if i tell you before you hear about it from someone else

You frown, feeling your fingers slow in Jake’s hair as you quickly unlock the device, opening it to your text thread with Bradley.

The bubble pops up a few times as the TV goes to commercial before you mute it entirely.

When you look back at your phone, your stomach drops at what awaits you.

there’s a rumor going around jake hooked up with another girl at the party tonight

and i think it might be true

i’m really sorry

#second star to the right (and straight on 'til morning)#jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun: maverick fic #top gun: maverick

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separatist-apologist · 4 months

Text

Every Corner Of This House Is Haunted

Summary: Nesta would leave if he asked her to.

Azriel never would.

For Day 2: Traditions of @sjmromanceweek

CW: Cheating, smut

Read on AO3

She knew he was coming.

Silent as the grave and yet somehow she always knew exactly where he was, could have picked him out in a crowd with ease. It had always been like that between them—some silent understanding they shared, some secret only they knew. Nesta didn’t move from her chair, pretending to read though they both knew he was there.

The tell-tale click of the lock shattered the game of pretend. Nesta was forced to look over where Azriel stood, back pressed to the door hiding them from the world. They were friends—no one wondered why they were alone in the House of Wind and if they were caught behind this door, no one would think a thing of it.

But no one was coming tonight. Cassian was out with Rhys, spending one last night of freedom doing whatever it was he had planned before they were married in the morning. Nesta had kissed him on the cheek and warned him not to be hungover at their wedding ceremony the next morning.

Azriel should have been with them celebrating.

“You’re home early,” Nesta commented, well aware that Azriel could hear her heart racing.

“I told Cass I’d meet up with him if I could get away from my assignment early,” Azriel responded, his words low and deep. She couldn’t drag her eyes off him, pulled in his current until she was drowning in eyes more green than brown.

“They’re probably down at Rita’s,” Nesta said dismissively, returning to her book. You should go meet them, was what she didn’t say because she didn’t want him to leave though she knew he should. He’d promised the last time was the last time.

Just like always.

“I’m not finished,” Azriel told her, pushing himself off the door to come closer. Nesta watched from the corner of her eye, one hand gripping the arm of the chair so tightly she could hear it groan beneath the pressure. “He’s not coming home tonight.”

“I know,” she whispered, drinking in the cool smell of peppermint and snow.

“Tonight I can pretend,” he added, swallowing hard. I can pretend you’re mine.

Nesta turned her face, unprepared to find him kneeling beside her. Azriel didn’t let her speak, capturing her lips with his own as he reached for her face. It was easier this way. If they really talked about what tomorrow meant, Nesta knew she’d cry and Azriel would leave and there would be nothing left between them.

No it was better like this. Threading her fingers through his thick, messy hair, Nesta scooted until Azriel was pulling her from the chair, her book clattering to the ground. They had to be careful—scents lingered. Tonight, though, Nesta wanted to pretend, too. She wanted to pretend that it hadn’t been Cassian on the other end of that cord but Azriel instead.

It was a cruel, unfair thing to wish.

Maybe she would have hated him, too, had he been her mate. Maybe Nesta just wanted what she couldn’t have. There was no way of knowing and for the rest of her life, Nesta would be plagued with the knowledge of what it was like to be loved by Azriel without ever sharing that with anyone but the male himself.

“Up,” Azriel ordered, hands sliding beneath her ass to lift her into the air. “With me.”

His room was private. Cassian and Rhys didn’t dare tread in his space and would never know the things that happened within those four walls. Even the presence of the house seemed to vanish there, as if it knew better than to watch. Nesta buried her face in the crook of Azriel’s neck, tracking the tattoos that crawled over his skin with her tongue while he walked.

Stay with me, she wanted to scream. They could run away somewhere even the long arm of Rhys didn’t reach. Could hide on the continent for a couple centuries. Long enough for tempers to cool, at least.

And Nesta knew that Azriel never would. He wouldn’t leave his brothers, his family, his home. Not for her, not for happiness.

Not for anyone. There was no use begging—not that she ever would—because Azriel didn’t think he was worth all the trouble. He’d take her like this because these stolen moments were all he thought he deserved, and Nesta didn’t know how to untangle that knot.

To prove he was worth so much more than the scraps of another man's life.

His bedroom door opened and closed, plunging them into total darkness. It was Nesta’s turn to kiss him, legs wrapped tight around Azriel’s torso, her hands back in his hair. He tasted like the cold air around them and when his fingers slid over her spine, deftly undoing the pearl buttons that kept her dress on, Nesta shivered.

“I need to taste you,” Azriel whispered in the dark.

“Please,” she responded, relieved when her back hit the bed. Her dress was gone, leaving nothing but the whisper of air against her bare stomach and her underthings she wished he would shred. Somewhere in this room Azriel must have had a collection of her night dresses. Nesta had never asked what he did with them when she slipped back to her room naked and Azriel had never once returned them.

Nesta had nothing of his at all. Only her memories, locked up so tight not even Rhys would find them, even with a hundred years of torture. She wanted more, though. More than his rough, callused fingers taking off the rest of her clothes and more than the darkness that hid them.

“Az—”

“Don’t,” he rasped, sinking to his knees at the edge of the bed. “Let me.”

She was already naked, propped up on her elbows as Azriel slid smoothly to his knees. He preferred them this way—her on a pedestal, him worshipful. His eyes were catlike in the dark, reflecting the tiniest sliver of light. She could see his scarred fingers sliding up her shins, spreading her thighs further apart.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Azriel murmured, his breath warm against her skin. Nesta held her breath, hoping to hear him say the three words that had eluded them both since they’d first began. He didn’t, though. And she didn’t ask him to—there were some lows Nesta refused to stoop to.

He’d say it with his hands, his lips, his tongue, his teeth. But never with his words. Just give me a reason to go, Az.

He wouldn’t.

Could he feel her desperation, she wondered? As he trailed his tongue up her leg, stopping just to return to her other leg, teasing her with slow touches, Nesta thought he must. This felt like an apology.

It felt like goodbye.

“Turn it off,” Azriel whispered, hovering between her legs. “I can hear your thoughts.”

“Az—” Nesta tried again, but this time he silenced her with a long lick up the center of her cunt. Nesta exhaled and just like Azriel wanted, her thoughts narrowed to his mouth and his tongue and nothing else. She convinced herself, when he slid one of his fingers into her body, that they had more time. Eons of it. He wasn’t going anywhere and neither was she. There would be time.

Nesta relaxed into the mattress and Azriel rewarded her for it, sucking and teasing her clit until she was panting as though she’d run up and down the stairs.

Azriel began to pump slowly, replacing that singular finger with a second, and then a third. It was a prelude to what he’d do when he finished and some little part of her wished he’d just hurry himself up.

Nesta raked her nails through his hair, delighting in the shuddering moan that escaped him. His mouth moved against her quicker, though with that same, fluid softness that drove her insane. Nesta was burning, could feel her magic crackling beneath her skin. If she wasn’t careful, she’d ignite the bedsheets on fire and have to make up some lie about what she’d been in Azriels room.

Again.

Azriel’s mouth was a symphony, each touch a new note. Fisting her fingers in his hair, Nesta pulled him closer the way he liked, grinding her body into his face until all she could hear was their shared breathing and his soft little moans reverberating through her.

“Az,” she whispered in warning. They were always quiet and she wondered what he was like wholly unrestrained. Did he even know? Nesta pressed her toes against his shoulders, pushing just a little as pleasure swept her toward the ceiling, toward the sky. Nesta’s thighs clamped around his face seconds before she came, causing Azriel to pull his fingers from her body so he could drag her closer and hold her still.

It was his favorite little game. She was lost to pleasure, drowning beneath the press of his tongue. It seemed as though he might just ride her through the orgasm but Azriel was a torturer, and that instinct didn’t stop in the bedroom. It merely sharpened him, drove him to keep licking until Nesta was writhing, her legs draped over his back so she couldn’t kick at his chest.

“Az,” she breathed, the pain quickly shifting into over stimulation. It was no use. Eyes locked on her face, Azriel pulled that second orgasm out of her writhing and panting before he let her go. Nesta felt exhausted, her limbs heavy. He’d let her sleep and she knew it, and Nesta wasn’t letting Azriel play the gentleman. Not tonight.

Rising up on her knees was met with a soft push against her chest, fingers grazing her bare breasts. “Not tonight,” he murmured, undoing the snaps that kept his clothes on. Nesta watched, tucking her heels beneath her body, hands resting in her lap. She thrust her chest out just a little, noting that his eyes were locked on her breasts, lips parted with obvious desire.

He was hard—of course he was. It was still a revelation each time he revealed the thick, long length of himself. She still remembered the first night after months and months of dancing around their attraction. Nesta had been so sure she’d reach between his legs and find nothing waiting for her—just proof she’d made the entire thing up in her head.

“Don’t move,” Azriel ordered, his voice dark and bossy. Nesta stayed where she was as he climbed on the bed and sat himself against the headboard. He looked like a nightmare, wings spread wide, legs parted, cock jutting high in the air. “Crawl to me, Nes.”

Nesta did as he asked with exaggerated slowness, making her way toward him until she was eye level with his cock. She licked the length of it, holding his gaze. Azriel exhaled, shaking his head. “Get in my lap, sweetheart.”

Her relief threatened to choke her.

Swinging a leg over his hips, Nesta rubbed her dripping cunt against the head of his cock. Azriel’s head fell back against the headboard with a thud, eyes fluttering shut. She might have thought him totally gone had he not reached for her breasts, taking one in each of his large hands and squeezing lightly.

“You’re so cruel,” Azriel whispered, leaning forward to brush his lips against her neck. “What have I done to deserve your hatred, Nesta?”

“I don’t hate you,” she protested, sinking slowly down his shaft. Azriel groaned louder this time. I love you.

It hung between them screaming loud despite having never been spoken aloud.

Azriel’s hands skimmed down the sides of her body, pulling her flush against him roughly. Nesta gasped, squeezed tight around the length of him. She’d never be used to the sheer size of his body, would never adjust like she’d once thought she might. The look of satisfaction on his face told her he didn’t want her to get used to him. He liked the time she spent breathing through parted lips and squeezing herself around him, trying to relax so she could wholly enjoy herself.

“You’re so tight,” he praised. “So wet for me.”

Digging her nails into his tattooed chest, Nesta replied, “You’re chatty tonight.”

He smiled and oh, the sight made her heart ache. He was so impossibly beautiful. Did he even know it? Nesta didn’t move, distracted by a thought that had wormed its way into her mind months earlier. How were mates chosen? Didn’t the mother recognize she and Azriel shared pieces of the same soul? He couldn’t see how utterly lovely he was, would never believe anyone could love him.

But she could. Just as Azriel had loved her long before anyone else had and Nesta wished, more than anything, that it had been him.

Azriel rolled her hips, pulling her back to the present. “Stay with me now,” he murmured, kissing her with glossy lips. Nesta let him, matching his slow, steady rhythm while bracing herself on his shoulders. It was easy enough to reach for one of his wings even with her eyes closed. She knew what he liked, had once spent an entire evening teaching her every spot she could touch and the response it might elicit.

Some pleasure.

Some pain.

Azriel liked a mix of both under the right circumstances. A torrent of memories flooded through her—nights spent tying him up, his knife in her hand. That wasn’t this night, though. And Nesta couldn’t let him go—not the way he expected her to. Not like everyone else did. Wordlessly, without explanation.

Without telling him what he meant to her.

Gripping his face, his cock still buried in her body, Nesta forced Azriel to look at her. “Tell me to leave. Ask me to stay with you.”

Pain flashed across his features. Azriel wrapped his arms around her body, crushing her against his chest as his hips began to move faster, with more urgency.

“I can’t,” he said, forehead pressed to her own. “I can’t do that.”

“Please,” she whispered.

“In another life we could be selfish,” he told her, and she knew there would be no pleading with him on this. He wouldn’t betray his friend, his brother—not completely. And Nesta knew if she left, Azriel would still be firm in his resolve.

“This isn’t goodbye,” she said, well aware her words were a lie.

“This isn’t goodbye,” Azriel agreed, brushing his thumb against her cheek.

But it was goodbye and they both knew it. This was all that was left for the two of them and Nesta was going to hold on to it for as long as she could—though in the end, it wasn’t long enough. They couldn’t hold off, sweat slicked bodies pressed tight. Azriel whimpered softly, the only indication he was close. Nesta wasn’t going to cry.

So she came loudly, letting all her feelings out in that one, strangled cry. This was all that was left between them. Azriel’s hold on her body was punishing, legs drawn up as he pumped himself into her desperately.

She should have left him, then. Should have gotten up, redressed, and gone to bed. Nesta had to be up early—Gwyn and Emerie would be arriving with the sun if Elain and Feyre didn’t beat them first. Everyone would descend on them, excited for the first real, semi-royal wedding the Night Court had seen in centuries.

Azriel must have been thinking it, too.

“Let me clean you up,” he whispered with a hoarse whisper.

“Stay with me until the sun comes up?” she asked.

Azriel brushed his fingers over her lips. “I’ll stay here as long as you need me.”

Their eyes met. Azriel would never leave.

And Nesta wouldn’t, either.

#nezriel #nesta archeron #azriel shadowsinger

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ideas-scattered-dreams · 1 year

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/ / silence? anger.

fandoms: genshin impact AU: SAGAU player au?

imagine that... You were just minding your own business and playing genshin as you always do when u have free time. you always do farming, collecting, taking pictures of your characters, doing quest as the usual. You hummed being satisfied of your works, you ran up in hills and killing some hiluchurls with your characters of choice. you were a silent player playing this game, like most games u play always being silent and if needed to talk you would. you never really need a reason to talk, what would the character do? reply? that's laughable. Though, the thought of the characters replying is nice, as you can have a conversation with someone your familiar with and don't need to be uncomfortable with each other... you smiled and chuckled at your own delusion, a character wouldn't be programmed do so here, but u don't mind to think of that way.

The character u control is enjoying your presence and your elegant face in the skies. they don't mind being used for your own gain or just to have fun in general. though they wish to hear your voice rather than a sigh and a hum. they have seen a lot of your emotions that are visible on your face but not once voiced it out... until now ofc. 🌙━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━⭐ You were currently doing a quest that involves... ill abort or albert. you HATED that guy with pure sin and anger, u couldn't stand to be around him, you would glare and just avoid him at all cause, especially when u use barbara (or main her), but i guess this was your unlucky day, you had to interact with him. You saw him behind the cathedral... again. agh you knew why he is there but u cant program him to just leave and jump off a bridge to the water,' now what does he want..' you approach him hesitantly just moving your character slowly, like micro slow. agh... When u got close to him u couldn't stand him. like omg he ugly asf, you wish u could actually kill him with your character right now... you grumble and had a frown adored about your face, teyvats skies grew gray and winds grew harsh... the citizens wonder why u are angry and upset.. they couldn't have that right? if you were angry at someone, they should be disposed off quickly... the character u are using glared daggers at abort or albert for making you upset, this man just had to anger their grace with his presence.. before abort finishes his first sentence, you beat boxed that bitch hard. "stfu u looking like that one father that cheated their wife with a fuckin maid and still say your sorry even when u got her pregnant, what's up with you goofy ah outfit? bro looks like a a fuckin cabbage that your hair complements lookin like mayonnaise and what is with your posture? man even madame ping and the other granny grandpas has better back sides, you look like a whole ah gorilla, what's with the hair? did u dye it yourself bc u want to fit in the blonde air way? you look like bakugo madapaking katsuki Walmart version, bro i see others lookin like u in this game but you be the WORST one, bro looks like dottores failed experiment that lived a day to tell the tale. are u fucking jobless to stay here and fucking stalk our sweet deaconess barbara? i aint even surprised by you being jobless, bro i'd be surprise if your not homeless. bro thought he was albert Einstein but bro is just a weirdo stalking mf don't even stare at me with those fucking eyes i wish to PLUCK OUTTTT... "

You panted from that long speech and walked away from him, not looking back to see his shocked face and a group of acolytes behind him including Jean looking angered and disgusted. You were to upset to do your routine with your character for now as u are tired from yelling at abort... maybe u will ignore his quest and do another later.. you sat them down on one of the cathedral seats outside and planted a kiss on your finger and placed the kissed finger to your characters lips and exited.

After you left, teyvats skies thundered infront of abort, the characters you used has their weapons out ready to murder the fuck out of abort.. i mean.. you wont notice if he is gone right your grace? 🌙━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━⭐ the next time you logged in the game, you dont see abort anymore, like he just.. didnt exist in the first place... but who are u to question? good radiance he is gone, this made your mood happy and hum. this isnt a dream right? this feels 100% real, hah. what a nice reality.

#➥🌙dreamer.ideas #sagau #genshin #sagau x male reader #sagau x female reader #sagau x gn reader #sagau x reader #genshin impact #i really like this one hehe

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tohokuu · 1 year

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elysium rising - gojo satoru

REBLOG MY WORK.

warnings : smut, fluff, angst, one sided friends to enemies to lovers, greek au, adultery/cheating, sukuna is an asshole, mentions of mass terror, blood and death.

underworld scenery inspired by lore olympus

a/n : reposting this with gojo. it’ll also be broken into parts so fill out the taglist form here !

pt 1. pt 2. pt 3. pt 4.

“she who walks the floors of hell finds the key to the gates of her own heaven, buried there like a seed.”

it was your misunderstanding that the charming king of the underworld would ever leave you alone. it was fate that day that lead him to you; beautiful beneath the glow of helios, picking flowers from demeter’s vast garden. with him, he had brought an odd looking dog. “cereberus.” he told you. “his name is cereberus.”

to say the dog was terrifying was an understatement. he was well over four feet, three heads protruding from it’s shoulders. cerberus was white and covered in black spots, a dalmation variant. he resembled the king in a way; tall and intimidating. however, the king behaved nothing like the tales your mother had told you as a child. demeter told you about the way he ruled the underworld with an iron fist. he was ruthless and greedy, and certainly never cared about anyone else’s feelings.

perhaps that was true. true for everyone else except you. that day, he had approached you with utmost kindness. his smile was captivating and his eyes shone so much, that your mothers garden reflected in his eyes. “you must be y/n.” he said. his voice dripped like sweet honey on a hot summer day. you nodded, taking in his beauty. you fumbled over your words, not knowing how to respond to someone as grand as him.

he laughed and dear gaia, it was so beautiful. his laugh flowed with the winds, and you swore your mothers garden that you wanted to hear it forever. “my name is gojo satoru, king of the underworld. i’m sure you’re familiar with my two brothers, choso and sukuna.”

you nodded, obviously familiar with the grand sukuna, god of the gods. you knew choso too well, all your time was spent with either your mothers garden nymphs or his water nymphs. all three brothers ruled over the three realms together.

sukuna was always wrapped up in another woman’s arms other than his wife, hera. choso was always off to rescue stranded clownfish halfway across the sea, but there was never any news of gojo, or at least never any good news of him.

“the god of the dead” they said. the older nymphs told you stories of him, how he took advantage of everyone around him, how he separated from his brothers due to an argument several hundred years ago. they told you the stories of how he attacked mortal villages, bathing in the blood that painted the skies. the stories of the underworld were equally terrifying. various dark hounds haunting the streets, terrorizing the souls that resided there.

“i’ve met your brothers, yes.” you responded, not wanting to seem too wrapped up in your daze.

the king seemed nothing like the way they had told you. other than his terrifying hell hound, he seemed rather harmless, but that could have been how he deceived all his victims. after a slight feeling of discomfort overcame you, you tried to come up with the best excuse to leave.

“i have to go. i’m sure my mother is wondering where i am.” he nodded, stepping aside to let you through and you were positive he was staring at you from behind with the way your skin crawled.

how had the atmosphere changed so fast ?

it was several hundred years later that you had seen him again, an established young goddess overlooking the garden you had grown up in. everything was quite fine that day until one of your younger sisters strolled into the large home you and your sisters lived in.

“mother ! the king is calling for you. it’s an emergency. yuuji said you must make haste!” and without much word to you, demeter strolled out. you knew your duties, so it isn’t like you needed a run down of it from her anyway.

but you wish you had at least kissed her goodbye when the ground beneath you split. the earth swallowed you whole while your sisters frantically ran to your siide, but it was to no avail.

your mother was not gone for more than ten minutes. the world seemed like it had split open and you knew this was no ordinary storm. the lightning resembled the shapes and patterns on king sukuna’s body too much.

this was his doing.

the air had been so clear before, why was it pouring now ? had sukuna no mercy ? was this a ploy to snatch you away from the comfort and warmth of your home ? all the thoughts of what could have been happening rushed to your head. why ? how ? you could see the butterflies from before disintegrate to dust, your sisters screams and tears filled the wind.

you tried to snatch vines to hold yourself to the green realm, but it wasn’t working. each piece of shrubbery that you touched felt hot.

the garden before you burned and the streams of water that used to be clear were now muddled with grime. you fell, and fell and continued to fall. you saw the ground open up. dirt, rocks, and lava poured past you. you gasped in shock as the rubble hit you. long hair blowing in the air blurred your vision, you couldn’t see at all. the grey sky became smaller and smaller until it was a diamond above you.

the wind rushed passed your head and your ears went deaf. what could you do but accept your fate? there was no one to save you from the place you knew you’d end up in.

a sliver of you knew he’d never give you up. he wasn’t kind and once something fell in his domain, he didn’t let it go very easily.

REBLOG MY WORK.

taglist form.

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto smut #geto x reader #geto x reader smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo imagine #gojo fluff #geto fluff

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mega-ringsandthings-world · 4 months

Text

Back to the present in the lougetown au, tall tales over cards and a name drop; As he speaks, Shanks fans out his cards with a swipe of his thumb and drops his gaze to them, his red brows furrowing down over his eyes for an instant, just a touch too drawn-in.

In the moment before Shanks' eyes return to his, Mihawk lets the corner of his mouth tick up a little. Shanks has found something very interesting in that handful of cards. Or else he wants Mihawk to think that he has. Mihawk isn't to be fooled, though. Games of chance have never been routine to him - he prefers to hold the odds rather than leave them in the air - but he can instantly ferret out a deception, or intent of a deception.

"-can get wild," Shanks goes on.

"I imagine," Mihawk says, and gives his own cards a glance. His hand appears to consist of a several hearts, a club or two, a diamond, and - - and Shanks is grinning at him with more than a hint of impishness, and something that is like, but not quite like, superiority.

Nah, you can't imagine, Mihawk almost hears him think.

"I mean wild, wild." Shanks asserts. There's a hint of challenge in his voice that tinge the edges of his grin, though it remains nothing but good-natured.

Mihawk barely stops his lips from curving back up in response to that grin. "In what way?" Mihawk says to humor him. "Besides the dubious shows of maritime prowess, unrestrained posturing, and the occasional bouts of sadism?"

Mihawk may eschew other pirates, but he knows what they are like all the same, and can attest that they conduct their business with a general formula. One that he had never quite found a taste for.

Shanks blinks at him, then bursts into laughter for a solid half minute. When he comes off of it, his grin is even wider, his amusement a sparkling strong thing against Mihawk's haki.

"Well, one time-" he begins, then stops abruptly, his eyebrows closing in again. After a moment, he raises his hand and taps his cards against his lips, his eyes going unfocused in concentration. Thinking of the most shocking story to tell. Or thinking it up, that is.

Mihawk waits, running his thumb idly against the edge of one of his cards and coming up with an imperfection, a little jut in the stiffened paper. He runs his thumb over it again, considering. Whoever owned these cards before used to cheat with them.

So much for the integrity of the marines, he thinks, and laughs a little to himself. He notes the card, the diamond, and looks back at Shanks, sees the moment Shanks finds whatever he's searching his mind for.

Mihawk readies himself.

"Well, I didn't actually see it," Shanks says, and pouts at the look Mihawk gives him. "It happened, I swear! Buggy saw it, and he wouldn't lie. Well...to me."

Mihawk is not about to argue against the honesty of someone he's never met, but he is tempted to point out that there is such a thing as shameless and undue embellishment. Ultimately, he resists.

"So, what happened?"

Shanks' pout melts from his face as he leans forward, tucking his cards against his chest. "Buggy said it was insane, right-" he starts animatedly, "-this guy bit someone's throat out, there was blood everywhere, everywhere - "

Mihawk wrinkles his nose. He's not shocked, not at all, but the visual is only reaffirming his point. Pirates do tend to go overboard - pun not intended - and while blood does not bother Mihawk, nor an excess of it, there is something to be said for decorum, really. And cleanliness. Biting out someone's throat - presumably with their own teeth -qualifies as neither.

"- and Buggy didn't say if the other guy was dead, but he must've been, because who gets their throat bit out and lives? And Bug said it was some little guy too, you wouldn't think he had it in him, right? I wish I seen it because that hadta' have been crazy-"

Shanks finally halts for breath, shooting a expectant look at Mihawk over a deep breath. "Wild," he says pointedly, though it sounds rather winded.

"Messy," Mihawk retorts just as pointedly. "What, did they not have weapons?"

#one piece #op #opla #mishanks #dracule mihawk #akagami no shanks #opla mihawk #opla shanks #hawkeye mihawk #red haired shanks #mihawk one piece #shanks one piece #one piece mihawk #mihawk x shanks #op marines #loguetown au

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tenelkadjowrites · 2 years

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Off Limits - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

🍺 Summary: A night of drinking with your boyfriend’s best friend, Seonghwa, ends up with things going too far.

🍺 Word count: 5k

🍺 Genre and warnings: one shot. fem pronouns for reader. cheating kink. oral sex, both seonghwa and reader receiving. messy blowjob. cum eating. dirty talk, reader is called “whore” and “slut”.

🍺 Tags: @thewonderofkpop - @obligatoryidolblog - @iusrene - @yunhofingers - @foggyinternetchaos - @multihoe-net - @spiderrenjunfics - @whatudowhennooneseesyou - @jess-1404 - @just-here-to-read-01 - @lilhwahwa - @btsreader12 - @rdiamond2727 - @inneratinyrebel - @8tinytings - @xirenex (this tag list is ppl who requested to be added to all ateez fics.)

this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa in any way, shape or form.

You should have stopped around two drinks ago but that would be a problem for Future You, the one that had an early morning flight home tomorrow.

In the dim lighting of the bar, you motion for another drink before looking over at Seonghwa, leaning close to him and saying too loudly, “Are you getting another?”

He shrugs and nods at the bartender who goes to work on your drinks. It is Tuesday night, close to eleven, and the two of you are drunk.

This is not your first time being drunk with Seonghwa, not when he is best friends with your boyfriend. This is just the first time you are drunk alone with him. Actually, the past few days has been the most time you’ve spent alone with him in general, seeing as that your boyfriend had a last minute work commitment pop up, leading to him cancelling his trip. But he urged you to keep your plane ticket, saying that at least one of you should have some fun.

But the fun is winding down now. Tomorrow the trip ends, and you should already be in bed. Instead, what went from one last meal together has turned into sitting at the bar with Seonghwa, drinking too much and talking.

Seonghwa, with his bright blonde hair, sleeveless black shirt and jeans, looks effortlessly attractive. He always does though, with any hair colour, in any outfit. You are used to his beauty, his muscles, even his feminine small waist. In the five years of being with your boyfriend, you’ve been around Seonghwa enough to note how otherworldly good looking he is in a detached, almost scientific manner. There is no point in studying his cheekbones, his pink lips, or his jawline because he is strictly Off Limits.

“Okay, okay, finish the story,” You slur slightly, motioning with your hands for Seonghwa to continue the ridiculous tale he has been telling.

“Well, I was on the third floor fucking her and then I hear this lock turn and I realize her husband is coming back,” He continues from where he left off, “And next thing I know I’m on the fire escape trying to tug my boxers back on.”

“You’re lying! This story is total bullshit!”

“It is not! Why would I make this up?”

“I would’ve heard this before,” You counter.

Seonghwa shakes his head, “I don’t tell you these types of stories,” He says solemnly.

Until tonight. There are a lot of things you have been learning about your boyfriend’s best friend in spending the last few days alone with him. He’s a bit of whore (non-derogatory, of course) which shouldn’t really surprise you given how hot he is (and Off Limits). This week alone included fishing out some random woman’s pair of underwear from under the guest bed, another woman’s bra ending up in your laundry, down to the way someone in the lobby of his apartment building made puppy dog eyes at him while walking by. Then, there are the stories you have wheedled out of him – the one night stands, the threesomes, the risqué almost public sex, down to the current story of how he slept with a married woman two years ago.

You don’t press Seonghwa as to why he doesn’t tell you these type of stories – you are also Off Limits. But in spending so much time around him without the barrier of your boyfriend, there is a sort of strange relaxed tension brewing. Which you are ignoring, of course.

The bartender slides the newly made drinks in your direction which you promptly take a swig from. Seonghwa has asked for no such stories from you, most likely because they would all involve your boyfriend and he is not interested in hearing about how his best friend fucks you.

“Did you get caught?”

“No but I don’t think I moved as fast in my life. I was still tugging my shirt on while hurrying down the street. She ended things that night, said it was too risky.” A small shrug. “You win some, you lose some.”

Your head is swimming from drinking too much and there is a curious heat in between your thighs at the idea of Seonghwa ploughing some married woman. You’re way too drunk, you lecture but the words slump downwards onto the floor of your brain without really registering.

“Morally wrong, a little hot though,” You reply without really thinking, taking another gulp of your drink.

Seonghwa, who is in the middle of his own swig, stops for a split second, peering at you over the rim of his glass. You avert your gaze quickly, pretending the board listing all the beers is suddenly fascinating.

“Isn’t it common knowledge stuff that is off limits ends up being hotter?” Seonghwa ponders aloud, bringing his glass down onto the bar top with a heavy thunk.

Something about his words hit the middle of your chest and for a brief second, your breathing catches. The comment could almost have a double meaning…but no, you brush it to the side, knowing the level of booze involved is making sure neither of you are speaking clearly.

“That is true. Or stuff your partner isn’t into that you like,” You blurt out.

Seonghwa freezes again and then his finger runs along the length of the top of the glass in a slow circle, not looking at you. “Speaking from personal experience?”

“Maybe.”

You have never discussed your sex life with your boyfriend to Seonghwa, respecting the friendship and the fact he probably wouldn’t want to hear about such things. But the sheer level of booze you have consumed has loosened your tongue in a manner that you’ve never had around him before, making you too relaxed, slouching closer to him as if going to whisper a secret.

And Seonghwa, just as drunk, meets you halfway. This close, you can smell the cologne clinging to his shirt, can admire the way the light slants against the muscles of his arms, the tiny beads of sweat along his hairline from the warmth of the bar, and cheekbones that people would pay for. You like this hair colour on him, the bright blonde somehow not washing him out at all. Very few could pull it off –

“Why are we leaning together?” Seonghwa finally asks in a quiet voice when you don’t speak.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” You lower your voice to a conspiratorial level akin to two girls sharing a secret at a sleepover, “I’ve always wanted to give like a certain type of blowjob but he isn’t into it.”

Seonghwa’s brows furrow in confusion. “Certain type?”

“You know…like really messy. A big mess.”

“A messy blowjob.”

“Right.”

He still looks confused. “Not that I really want to picture my friend getting his dick sucked but aren’t blowjobs inherently messy?”

Exasperated, you go, “Yes but I don’t mean cliché messy. I mean…just sloppy. Spit and cum and all over my t-shirt and him finishing in my mouth and just…you know, messy.”

Seonghwa has stiffened ever so slightly like a cold breeze came in when a new group of people just pushed the bar door open. You didn’t feel any breeze but whatever, his body probably blocked it.

He clears his throat a little. “He doesn’t want that?”

“No, I’ve tried explaining it before but he doesn’t get it. He doesn’t find it hot. So, you know…the sex is just…it’s very neat and tidy. Organized.” You wave your hands a little drunkenly as if the motion explains something that your words can’t.

Seonghwa shifts slightly, taking a very large swig from his drink, tilting his head back. His Adam’s apple bobs and you stare at it, entranced for a few moments. Your thighs clench. You’ve never actually talked about your graphic sloppy blowjob fantasy with anyone but your boyfriend and after his refusal of it, you didn’t think you would bring it up again – especially to Seonghwa. But the booze has you feeling warm all over and particularly chatty.

He finishes the drink, bringing the glass down with an even heavier thunk than before. Then he goes, “Shame he is missing out on something so fun.”

His reply throws you but before you can wrap your head around it, Seonghwa slides off the barstool, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“Finish your drink up so we can get back and go to sleep. We have to get up early. I’ll go pay.”

You watch him saunter off to the end of the bar where the cash register is. When he pulls out his wallet, your eyes travel up along his toned arms, swallowing hard. Shame he is missing out on something so fun. Now what the hell did that mean? Did that mean Seonghwa had done that before? He’s into that? Not that it mattered. No, it didn’t matter. You have a boyfriend. Who didn’t want a messy and sloppy blowjob. Unlike Seonghwa. The heat between your thighs grows and your fingers dig into the denim of your jeans, trying to get a grip on your drunken brain.

After paying, it is just a ten minute walk back to his apartment. Even so, the pace is slow, the cold air feeling good against your skin after the warmth of the bar. Sometimes, your feet wobble and you brush against Seonghwa’s arm which sends electric shocks down your back. At one point, he steadies you from toppling off the curb.

“It’s the heels,” You explain, gesturing to the five inch black pumps that made sense about three hours ago, “Not too good for drinking.”

“Probably not a good idea to wear fuck me pumps while drunk,” Seonghwa remarks in a throaty voice.

“These are not fuck me pumps.”

“They absolutely are.”

“Are not,” You reply stubbornly as his apartment grows closer.

“Yes, they are,” Seognhwa slurs, gesturing to your feet, “Look at the heels on those things, like you should have your legs spread and those heels propped up on the edge of a table or something.”

This creates an obscenely vivid mental image of what he has just described only instead of picturing your boyfriend, you are picturing Seonghwa.

“That’s pornographic,” You retort.

“He fuck you in those?”

You scoff, “Oh, now you want personal details of how your best friend fucks me?”

“Well, if he doesn’t want a messy blowjob from you, then what else isn’t he doing?” He counters quickly.

At the entrance to the apartment complex, Seonghwa inputs the code to unlock the main doors and you trail after him into the foyer and down the hallway towards his apartment on the first floor. Not only are you drunk but it is impossible to deny that you are getting worked up too. The conversation is veering into something dangerous.

“No, he doesn’t fuck me in these,” You answer a little too loudly, given how quiet the hallway is.

Seonghwa stops in front of his apartment door, fumbling with the key a bit before it finally goes into the lock and opens. Stumbling into his apartment, you turn around to watch him close the door.

With his back to you, he goes, “No sex in the fuck me pumps, no sloppy blowjobs. Sounds like you’ve been overdo for some fun.”

Exhaling slowly, you take a step backwards, turning away from him and going to the kitchen. I should get some water and go to bed, you tell yourself but it is difficult to think clearly. You are too horny and too drunk. Seonghwa follows, leaning against the kitchen counter as you pull down a glass and get some water.

“Hm,” is all you say in reply, not wanting to shit talk your boyfriend in bed but unable to deny Seonghwa is telling the truth. Maybe if you were sober, the denial would come easily. You take a sip of water, sneaking a glance at him.

His arms are crossed, his jeans hanging low off his hips, his hair a little messy from the wind outside. You swallow hard, suddenly overwhelmingly horny. When you finish gulping down your water, he turns his attention to you, taking you by surprise as he leans forward.

Bringing his hand upwards, Seonghwa’s fingers brush across your bottom lip. The touch sends a buzzing down your spine, your lips parting slightly as he holds his finger up to you to show that it is wet.

“You always drink messily too?” His voice is low, his eyes half lidded with desire.

It is strange to see that look on Seonghwa’s face, of all people. It feels incredibly intimate to know what he looks like when turned on especially directed at you.

“I do lots of things messy,” You mumble.

“You wanna show me?”

You’re supposed to be Off Limits, you think hazily but it is evident that those protests are feeble things coming from a version of yourself that isn’t drunk and horny. Bringing your hand forward slowly, you press your palm against the front of his jeans. His breath catches. You can feel the bulge straining against his boxers and denim and it is all you can do not to drop to your knees immediately.

“I can show you,” the voice that comes out of you is low and throaty, lightheaded with wanting Seonghwa.

You squeeze him through his jeans and his hands grip the back of the counter as if to steady himself as he replies, “I hope it’s messy and you don’t waste my time.”

As if possessed by something raw inside your chest, you are dropping to your knees, fingers working the button of his jeans, almost salivating over the idea of sucking his cock the way you have always wanted to. The sound of his zipper sliding downwards seems to be incredibly loud in your ears as if it is some sort of signal indicting just exactly what you are about to do and how you shouldn’t be doing it.

Seonghwa’s cock springs free from the confines of his boxers, rock hard, larger than your boyfriend’s. It is the sort of cock that you would go wild to suck on and have in your mouth and the fact that it belongs to someone other than your boyfriend would matter more if you weren’t so drunk, if you weren’t so horny, if you didn’t want Seonghwa this much.

As if in a dream, you gingerly curl your hand around his girth, feeling his warmth against your palm. You can’t get over the size, already drooling at the idea of Seonghwa stretching your mouth out. Unable to look up at him, you spit on the head of his cock, stroking his length as you get him covered in your salvia.

“You getting shy on me?” Seonghwa suddenly asks, his voice still tinged with booze, the edges of the words slurring ever so slightly like pages folding in the corners of a well read book.

“No,” You mumble but the truth is that now that your fantasy is right in front of your face, the shyness is seeping in.

He brushes your hand away from his cock, holding it close to your lips, going, “I’ll help. Open your mouth.”

The command leaves you breathless, obeying immediately. Your underwear is sticking to your pussy from how worked up you are. You cannot remember the last time you were this wet.

“Let’s see how much of me you can fit in your pretty mouth,” Seonghwa says.

One hand rests very lightly on the back of your head as he pushes his dick in your mouth. Your lips stretch around him, trying to accommodate how thick he is. Pools of spit form at the base of your mouth as his length slides in. Your eyes flutter before closing, loving the size of him and, as improper as it is to admit, loving the fact that you definitely should not be doing this with Seonghwa.

Spit bubbles at the corners of your lips as you sputter around his cock before finally hitting your limit and gagging. Seonghwa immediately pulls out, long strands of spit and precum connecting the tip of his cock to your lips before breaking and falling across the front of your shirt.

Breathing hard, you finally look up at him, lips parted slightly as he admires a red lipstick smear on his cock before nodding approvingly. “You almost took all of me,” He remarks.

“Do it again,” You tell him urgently.

“All the years I spent around you, I didn’t peg you for such a cock slut,” Seonghwa says and it is the casual and almost affectionate use of slut that makes your pussy tighten and your desire grow ever more powerful.

This time you don’t wait for him and instead wrap your mouth around his cock, taking as much as you can once again. Seonghwa groans as you do so, your cheeks puffed out from guiding his length down your throat, your tongue pressing against his shaft.

Your boyfriend’s best friend has a dream cock to gag and drool over. Unlike before, you don’t remain still but bob your head up and down on him, letting your drool go freely, making a mess on his cock. It dribbles out of your mouth and onto your shirt, the mess growing bigger by the second.

“F-fuck,” He grunts when his cock slips out from in between your lips as he takes in the sight of you on your knees, your shirt covered in spit and precum, lipstick smeared all over his length.

You jerk him off, your hand sliding all over the drool across his cock, listening to the noises he makes. Lowering your head, you drag your tongue against his balls, stopping to suck on them, hearing Seonghwa groan louder.

“You know,” He says in a cracked voice, “We really shouldn’t be doing this.”

You hum a reply that is difficult to make out when your mouth is filled with his balls and your tongue is lapping against them. You get the feeling Seonghwa isn’t bringing this up as some moral lecture but moreso because he is secretly enjoying how improper the entire thing is.

“But I’d be lying,” He continues, “If I didn’t say I haven’t thought about it before.”

Dragging your tongue upwards along his shaft, you pause with the tip of his cock pressing against your lips to look up at him. Your heart skips a beat at his words, refusing to believe them.

“No, you didn’t,” You reply, narrowing your eyes.

Seonghwa is breathing heavily, hands still gripping the counter, knuckles white. Some of his blonde hair has fallen in front of his face as he looks at you with your hand wrapped around his cock.

“Yes, I did.”

“Show me what you thought of then.”

“I thought of,” He moves your hand away from his cock, positioning himself at your mouth again, “Exactly this. You with your mouth stuffed,” Seonghwa moves his hips, his cock pushing past your lips again, “Making a mess all over me and your clothes,” Another inch in your mouth, your tongue pressing against it, drool forming at the base of your lips and running down your chin and onto your shirt, “Then you’d look up at me with your pretty eyes,” You reflexively do so with your lips stretched around his girth, “And I would know what a whore you are.”

Seonghwa pulls his cock away from you, and it falls from your mouth, leaving sticky strands of cum falling off your lips and down across your chin and shirt. Your clothes are a sight to behold, covered in drool and cum, running down the front of your shirt with some landing on your jeans.

You don’t know if he is telling the truth in regards to the fantasy or if it is just dirty talk. You have spent every moment since meeting Seonghwa working to not allow one perverted thought pop in your head. Had he really not done the same?

Regardless of the truth, it doesn’t change the fact that you are currently on your knees for him in his kitchen with your boyfriend a distant thought. Leaning forward, you go back to blowing Seonghwa, your head bobbing up and down, cheeks hollow as you suck his cock. Seonghwa groans, his head rolling back as you do so, a strangled gasp tumbling from his lips.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that,” He exclaims, his breathing hard and fast.

This only spurns you on, working him with both your hand and your mouth. Your hand is a sticky mess, his cock slick with spit, easy to jerk off in between sucking him, sticking your tongue out.

Seonghwa’s breathing catches, groaning louder before saying in a hoarse voice, “I’m going to cum down your throat, fill your stomach up with my cum.”

You can’t help yourself – with your other hand you are trying to rub your pussy through your jeans. You are so wet that you didn’t think it was possible to be this turned on, and the idea of Seonghwa cumming is making you go insane.

“G-god, you fucking slut,” He gasps out, seeing how desperate you are, “I’m going –”

Seonghwa grunts as he begins to cum in your mouth, covering your tongue in his load. There is so much of it that he fills your mouth quickly, and it spills out over your lips, dribbling off your chin and along the fabric covering your tits. His breathing is unsteady as he forces his eyes open to look at you, covered in spit, cum and drool. You keep your mouth open, letting him see it full of his cum before you try to swallow it. But there is so much of it that you try to scoop it off your chin, smearing it all over your fingers.

Panting, Seonghwa takes in the sight of you covered in his cum. You can only imagine how you look – your shirt stuck to your skin, soaked through from the blowjob, your lips and chin smeared in his load. He extends his hand downwards, waiting for you to grab it.

“C’mere,” He says gruffly as you stand unsteadily, your legs a little numb from being on your knees with your high heels folded underneath you.

You aren’t sure what his plan is. Your brain is too focused on how horny you are and how good sucking your boyfriend’s best friend’s cock had felt. Seonghwa holds you by the waist and in one swift motion hoists you up onto the dining room table near the kitchen counter. A random assortment of items clatter to the floor but he doesn’t seem to notice. Both of you are too drunk and worked up for one another.

He is fumbling with the button on your jeans, his hair falling in front of his face as he does so. Impatiently, you help him, wiggling out of your jeans as they join the rest of the items on the floor. He swiftly tugs off your underwear – but of course leaves your high heels on.

“Spread your legs,” He growls, sitting in the nearest chair before leaning forward and spitting obscenely onto your pussy, “I want to see your cunt take my fingers.”

Like earlier, seeing Seonghwa in this position is wrong and it makes you wetter. He brings one hand to graze along your leg, stopping to spare a glance at the high heels as his other hand comes up to your mouth, extending two fingers. You wrap your lips around them, your entire body buzzing with desire as you wet them. Seonghwa removes them a few seconds later, bringing his hand downward to gently spread your pussy lips apart.

“What a cute little pink pussy,” He remarks while inserting one finger into your hole which immediately tightens down around him, causing Seonghwa to smirk, “You’re drenched. You liked sucking my cock that much, whore?”

You whimper in response, eyes closing as you lose yourself in his finger buried in your cunt and just how wrong the entire situation is. If you were sober, more time would be spent lecturing yourself than enjoying it and some part of you is secretly gleeful at the ability to hide behind being intoxicated.

Seonghwa slips another finger inside your wetness as you almost lose your balance from propping yourself up with your high heels on the edge of the table, the pleasure overwhelming. His pace is slow and steady but his words are relentless.

“You look like a fucking slut taking my fingers like this while you are covered in my cum and your drool. Look at the front of your shirt – how would you be able to explain such a thing to him?” You know the him he is referring to. “That you made a mess because you were sucking my cock?”

You wiggle down against his fingers as he increases the speed. The noise of your wet cunt taking his fingers is lewd and Seonghwa seems to get off on it, fingerbanging you hard and fast as your walls tighten around him.

Seonghwa brings his face to nestle in between your thighs, dragging his tongue against your clit unexpectedly. You jump, surprised, gasping at the sudden pleasure. Your hand flies to his hair, gripping the bright blonde locks in between your fingers. He grunts, pounding his fingers as far as they can go into your cunt and wiggling them upwards as his tongue works your clit.

Opening your eyes, you look downwards to take in the sight of your boyfriend’s best friend in between your thighs. He is lost in sucking your clit, his fingers buried deep inside you, the pressure mounting with each passing second. As if sensing your stare, he opens his eyes to look at you. The eye contact makes you shiver, your grip on his hair tightening.

“Cum against my face,” His words are muffled by your thighs, “Be a good slut and cum against my face.”

Turning into a panting and moaning mess, all you can do is groan from his words. His fingers don’t stop fucking your cunt and his tongue never leaves your clit for a moment, lapping at it vigorously as your orgasm draws closer and closer.

“Keep doing that,” You gasp, “Don’t stop.”

“Fucking whore,” He spits against your cunt, smearing it against your clit with his thumb. His face is covered in your wetness, one dollop of spit falling off his bottom lip and onto his shirt before he brings his face back downwards to make you finish.

And you do finish, your orgasm starting almost as soon as the tip of his tongue touches your clit. Arching your hips, still holding onto Seonghwa’s hair, you climax with such an intensity that you can feel yourself gush against his fingers which makes him groan and start to lick it up. You don’t think that you have ever orgasmed this hard before and it is all over the face of your boyfriend’s best friend. Bucking your hips against Seonghwa’s face, your high heels almost slipping off the table, you can hear him urging you on, calling you a good whore, as you ride out the orgasm.

As you come down from it, you slump against the table. Your body is warm, thighs sticky with cum, panting from the intensity of the climax. You finally release your grip on Seonghwa’s hair and he straightens up, pushing away from the table to look down at you on the table.

Both of you are messy, covered in cum and spit. Seonghwa’s normally perfect looking hair is sticking up all over the place from where you held onto it. There is a look in his eyes and you know a split second what he is going to do before he does it.

He leans forward, his hand sliding under your back to push you upwards, his lips crushing yours in a kiss that threatens to confirm his earlier words that thinking of you had been true. Your hands grab onto the front of his shirt, tongue in his mouth; Seonghwa tastes like cum and sin and when the kiss breaks, a strand of spit connects your lips to his.

Panting, he untangles himself from you, giving a small shake of his head as if to wipe away the booze and lust that has led the two of you into what you just did.

It is then you see the time on the kitchen clock. Before you can stop yourself, you groan aloud although this time it is dismay than lust.

“I’m gonna be exhausted for this flight,” You lament.

“Better get you off to bed then,” Seonghwa remarks and you can feel it – the moment shifting away from the pornographic back to the earlier dynamic.

He helps you slide off the table, your legs wobbly from the orgasm, teetering in your high heels. You snatch up your underwear to slide them on, not caring about your jeans, as Seonghwa pulls his boxers back on. Distantly, you wonder when the guilt will hit at what the two of you just did. At least we didn’t fuck, you think half heartly.

Following him down the hallway towards the guest room, Seonghwa clearing his throat softly makes you look over your shoulder. He is in the doorway to his own room, a silhouette against the bedroom light, his hair unnaturally bright yet face in shadow.

“You know,” He begins and his voice is remarkably clear as if having sobered up in the aftermath of what happened, “If you ever want to visit again, you can. Alone. I mean.” The words hang in the air with dangerous intent, the idea of anything being off limits clearly out the window.

Your heart skips a beat, fingers tightening around the door handle for a brief moment.

“Sounds good,” You reply quietly before turning around and sliding into the bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind you.

It doesn’t take long to fall asleep, your body languid from booze and sex and the future like a sharp yet beautiful knife glinting in the darkness where perhaps nothing is truly off limits.

#ateez fics #seonghwa fics #seonghwa smut #seonghwa x reader #ateez smut #kpop fic #off limits #100 notes

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